(09 


QUEEN   TITANIA 


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CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


QUEEN    TITANIA 


HJALMAE  H.   BOYESEN 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

743  AND  745  BKOADWAT 
1881 


COPTRIGHT, 

1881, 
BY  CHAKLES  SCRLBNER'S  SONS. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

QUEEN  TITANIA 3 

THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE 161 

A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE 187 


M737265 


QUEEN  TITANIA. 


QUEEN  TITANIA. 


MR.  QUINTUS  BODILL,  as  had  been  intimated 
by  his  mother  at  the  time  when  he  made  his 
debut  in  existence,  was  an  exceedingly  hand 
some  fellow.  You  observed  at  once  that  he 
was  no  crude  homo  novus,  whose  culture  and  pol 
ish  are  only  skin-deep.  There  was  something  in 
the  frank  directness  of  his  gaze,  the  soft  mod 
elling  of  his  features,  and  the  quiet  and  uncon 
scious  dignity  of  his  demeanor  which  seemed 
to  indicate  a  long  transmission  of  inherited 
good-breeding.  I  would  not  say  that  his  face 
was  in  anywise  remarkable,  except,  perhaps, 
for  its  absolute  purity  and  sweetness  ;  its  in 
nocence  was  at  times  almost  touching,  and  yet, 
if  you  looked  closely,  you  would  detect  amid 
all  that  blond  and  downy  youthfulness  a  very 
definite  hint  of  resolution  and  courage.  The 


4  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

passengers  on  board  the   Melanesia,  however, 
were    not  sufficiently    interested   in   Quintus 
Bodill's  face  to  make  these   minute  investiga 
tions.      The   absorbing   topic   at  the  time   to 
which  I  refer — it  was  the  seventh  day  from 
Queenstown — happened  to  be  a   funeral  which 
had  just  occurred  during  the  morning.  A  young 
Englishwoman,  of  the  second  cabin,  had  died 
the  day  before,  leaving  a  four-year-old  little 
daughter,   who   was   just   now    being   handed 
around  and  inspected  by  some  officiously  be 
nevolent  ladies.     Quintus,  who  sat  on  a  camp- 
stool,  leaning    against   the    gunwale,  smoking 
reflectively,  watched  the  distressed  and  fright 
ened  child  with  lively  sympathy  ;  and  thought 
-of  his  own  little  sister  at  home,  of  whose  ap 
pearance   this   bewildered    waif  remotely  re 
minded  him.     What  was  to  become  of  her? 
To  whom  did  she  now   belong?     "Was  there 
any  one  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean  await 
ing  her  arrival  ?     The  wind  whistled  and  sang 
in  the  cordage  of  the  ship,  the  huge  sail  gave 
an  occasional  flap  and  again  bulged  out  before 
the  breeze,   the   waves   rose   with   a  rushing 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  5 

rhythm  up  to  the  very  gunwale,  then  sank 
away  with  a  wrathful  hiss;  and,  down  some 
where  out  of  sight,  the  machinery  kept  labor 
ing  with  a  throbbing,  nightmarish  energy. 
But  through  it  all  the  thought  of  the  homeless 
and  motherless  child  continued  to  haunt  the 
warm-hearted  Norseman.  Presently  he  saw 
the  captain — a  shaggy  naval  bachelor,  with  ter 
rific  eyes  and  beard,  and  a  voice  like  a  bas 
soon — approaching  the  group  of  ladies  who 
were  temporarily  interesting  themselves  in  the 
little  girl,  and  stretching  out  his  arms  to  take 
her.  But  as  he  was  stooping  to  her  level,  she 
gave  a  scream  of  terror,  darted  across  the 
deck,  and,  sobbing,  hid  her  face  in  the  folds  of 
Quintus's  overcoat.  He  was  quite  startled  at 
the  suddenness  of  her  motion,  but  soon  began 
to  find  pleasure  in  the  situation.  He  tried  to 
lift  her  up  on  his  lap,  but  she  clung  convul 
sively  to  his  knee,  and  sobbed  piteously  when 
he  bent  down  over  her,  spoke  soothingly  to 
her,  and  ran  his  fingers  caressingly  through 
her  long,  yellow  ringlets. 

All  day  long,  with  a  wholly  irrational  devo- 


6  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

tion,  the  little  girl  followed  at  Quintus's  heels 
like  a  little  dog,  and  pursued  him  wherever  he 
went.  She  sat  on  his  lap  at  dinner,  and  would 
suffer  no  one  else  to  come  near  her,  and  in  the 
evening,  when  the  stewardess  came  to  take  her 
away,  she  gave  such  a  terrified  shriek  that  he 
could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  part  with  her. 
He  then  retired  with  her  into  a  corner  of  the 
saloon,  and  began  to  ask  her  questions  about 
her  father,  mother,  and  her  past  life  ;  but  be 
yond  the  fact  that  her  name  was  Tita,  he  could 
not  coax  from  her  a  single  item  of  intelligence. 
She  answered,  in  a  half -injured  manner,  "  yes  " 
to  questions  which  mutually  contradicted  each 
other,  making  her  father,  for  instance,  simul 
taneously  a  resident  of  England,  of  America, 
and  of  heaven,  and  being  apparently  not  in  the 
least  troubled  by  the  inconsistencies  of  her 
testimony.  It  was  very  puzzling  indeed,  her 
face  seemed  to  say,  but  she  could  not  help  it. 

During  the  whole  remainder  of  the  voyage, 
Quintus  and  Tita  were  inseparable  compan 
ions.  From  her  elevated  position  on  his  arm, 
with  her  little,  soft  cheek  pressed  tightly 


QUEEN   TITANIA.  7 

against  his,  and  her  chubby  arms  clasped 
resolutely  around  his  neck,  she  felt  safe  in  de 
fying  the  whole  world.  She  slept  in  the  upper 
berth  in  his  state-room,  and  would  never  con 
sent  to  close  her  eyes  before  he  had  seated 
himself  on  the  very  uncomfortable  ladder  and 
taken  both  her  hands  in  his.  She  seemed  in 
everything  to  look  upon  him  as  the  natural 
substitute  for  her  lost  mother,  and  Quintus, 
who  was  an  absurdly  tender-hearted  fellow, 
was  so  touched  by  her  dependence  upon  him, 
and  so  flattered,  too,  by  her  undisguised  pref 
erence  for  him,  that  it  hardly  occurred  to 
him  to  throw  off  her  yoke,  or  to  rebel  against 
her  despotic  authority.  He  was  perfectly  well 
aware  that  there  were  those  among  the  pas 
sengers  who  were  amusing  themselves  at 
his  expense,  and  he  occasionally  happened  to 
overhear  remarks  which  made  him  marvel  at 
the  possible  baseness  of  human  nature.  Thus 
he  came  very  near  having  an  unpleasant  en 
counter  with  Sir  Walter  Thorndowne,  who,  in 
Bodill's  hearing,  declared,  between  his  yawns, 
that  he  had  no  belief  in  disinterested  gener- 


8  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

osity,  and  that  in  all  probability  "  the  young 
polar  bear  "  was  more  closely  related  to  Tita 
than  he  cared  to  confess.  On  the  other  hand, 
Mr.  Diggers,  who  had  been  canvassing  Eu 
rope  in  the  interest  of  some  patent  concern  or 
other,  and  persisted  in  coming  to  lunch  in  a 
gorgeous  dressing-gown,  assured  Mr.  Bodill 
that  he  was  delighted,  by  George  !  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  a  gentleman  who  had  a  heart 
under  his  waistcoat,  and  who  was  not  afraid  to 
take  a  hand  where  the  odds  were  against  him. 
He  even  carried  his  generosity  so  far  as  to 
propose  to  the  captain  that  a  subscription  be 
taken  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  child,  pledging 
himself  for  thirty  dollars,  but  refusing  to  head 
the  list,  because  he  knew  that  his  plebeian 
name  would  prejudice  the  foreign  passengers 
against  the  undertaking.  The  captain  accepted 
this  hint,  and  collected  four  hundred  and  fifty- 
five  dollars  for  Tita,  the  sum  to  be  deposited 
temporarily  with  the  steam-ship  company  until 
it  should  be  drawn  by  Tita  herself,  or  by  some 
one  legally  entitled  to  compensation  for  her 
support. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  9 

It  was  on  a  sunny  morning  in  May,  186 — , 
that  the  Melanesia  cast  anchor  in  the  harbor  of 
New  York.  Quintus  was  standing  on  deck, 
gazing  with  joyous  expectation  at  the  great  city 
which  was  soon  to  receive  him.  He  had  half 
forgotten  Tita,  whom  he  was  holding  on  his 
arm,  and  who,  with  an  air  of  supreme  content 
ment,  kept  rubbing  her  cheek  against  his,  and 
occasionally  pointing  with  delighted  ejacula 
tions  at  the  queer  men  and  women  who  were 
rushing  about  with  bundles  and  boxes  in  their 
hands,  gesticulating  wildly  and  shouting  in 
unknown  tongues  to  the  apathetic  sailors  and 
officers.  The  cabin  passengers  were  already 
pressing  forward  to  board  the  tug-boat,  and  a 
pang  suddenly  shot  through  Quintus's  heart  at 
the  thought  that  th$  hour  of  parting  was  now 
at  hand.  Tita  was  to  be  placed  in  an  orphan 
asylum  in  New  York,  the  captain  had  told  him, 
until  some  one  claimed  her,  and  if  no  one 
claimed  her,  she  would  be  trained  for  a  servant 
or  a  seamstress,  or  something  of  the  sort,  or 
perhaps  be  sent  West,  as  soon  as  she  would  be 
able  to  shift  for  herself.  Of  her  mother  noth- 


10  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

ing  definite  could  be  ascertained,  except  that 
she  came  from  London,  and,  under  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Marion  Hulbert,  had  taken  a  second-cabin 
ticket  for  New  York. 

As  Quintus  stood  sadly  revolving  these 
thoughts  in  his  head,  the  captain  (for  whom 
Tita  had  an  ineradicable  aversion)  made  his 
appearance,  accompanied  by  the  stewardess, 
who  held  out  her  arms  coaxingly  to  the  child, 
promising  her  jelly,  and  making  her  all  sorts 
of  tempting  proposals  if  she  would  come  to  her. 
But  Tita  was  as  much  proof  against  bribes  as 
she  was  against  argument ;  she  only  responded 
with  a  determined  little  pout,  and  clung  the 
more  closely  to  Bodill's  neck.  Quintus  felt 
inexpressibly  wretched ;  he  would  have  liked 
to  yield  to  the  impulse  of  his  heart  to  take 
upon  himself  the  responsibility  for  Tita's  fu 
ture.  But  what  could  he,  a  penniless  bache 
lor  of  twenty,  do  with  a  child  of  four,  and 
what  sort  .of  a  future  could  he  possibly  prepare 
for  her?  With  this  reflection  Quintus  reso 
lutely  steeled  his  heart,  and  with  a  huge  effort 
tremblingly  unclasped  Tita's  tiny  hands,  which 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  11 

yet  clung  about  his  neck  with,  a  desperate  per 
sistence.  The  stewardess,  who  was  not  troub 
led  with  much  delicacy  of  feeling,  hastened  to 
assist  him,  and  with  one  rough  wrench  trans 
ferred  the  reluctant  child  to  her  own  ample 
embrace.  Quintus  seized  his  valise,  which 
was  lying  at  his  feet,  and  was  about  to  make 
his  escape.  From  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he 
detested  himself,  and,  in  his  innocent  Norse 
fashion,  wondered  whether  God  would  ever 
forgive  him  for  thus  basely  deserting  one  of 
His  little  ones.  It  was  this  thought,  perhaps, 
or  possibly  a  mere  natural  impulse  of  pity, 
which  made  him  pause  and  turn  about  once 
more.  "Let  me  kiss  you  good-by,  at  least, 
my  child,"  he  said,  putting  his  arm  around 
Tita's  neck  and  pressing  her  closely  to  him. 
She  looked  so  irresistibly  lovely  with  the  quiv 
ering  little  lips,  the  great  tears  in  her  eye 
lashes,  and  the  air  of  profound  injury  in  her 
whole  expression,  that  all  Quintus's  rational 
reflections  evaporated.  The  tears  now  came 
faster  and  faster,  and  surrendering  herself 
completely  to  her  grief,  Tita  sobbed  on  his 


12  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

bosom  as  if  her  small  heart  was  wounded  be 
yond  the  possibility  of  repair. 

"  I  want — to— do — with — you,"  she  managed 
to  say  between  her  sobs.  "  I  want  to  do  with 
Twint." 

"  Oh,  you  precious  child ! "  cried  Bodill,  feel 
ing  now  no  longer  ashamed  of  his-  tears.  "  Yes, 
you  shall  go  with  Twint." 

With  heedless  haste  he  rushed  forward  to 
the  stairway,  from  which  he  boarded  the^tug- 
boat.  And  there  he  stood,  amid  the  wondering 
passengers,  holding  on  his  arm  his  tiny  charge. 
He  was  not  aware,  this  unsuspicious  Quintus, 
what  an  amount  of  possible  misery  and  bliss 
he  was  importing  into  the  United  States  of 
America  in  the  diminutive  person  of  Tita. 


II. 


AFTER  having  left  his  prospective  address  at 
the  steam-ship  office,  and  satisfied  the  authori 
ties  that  he  was  a  proper  person  to  be,  at  least 
temporarily,  intrusted  with  the  care  of  a  child, 
Quintus  betook  himself  with  his  charge  to  Jer 
sey  City,  where  a  former  groom  of  his  father's, 
named  Syvert  Hanson,  was  said  to  be  living. 
This  Hanson  had  been  one  of  Quintus's  boyish 
admirations,  on  account  of  a  rare  and  manly  ac 
complishment  he  possessed  of  spitting  through 
his  teeth  without  the  slightest  movement  of  the 
lips.   He  had,  however,  vanished  long  ago  from 
his  friend's  horizon  ;  but  reports  of  his  extra 
ordinary  prosperity  had,  from   time  to  time, 
reached  the  family  through  Hanson's  relatives, 
who  took  pains  to  convey  the  impression  that 
Syvert  was  now  as  big  a  man  as  Colonel  Bodill 
himself,  and  perhaps  a  little  bigger.     Quintus, 
who  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  marvellous 
tales  of  America,  and  had  a  vague  impression 

13 


14  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

that  the  common  logic  of  human  life  was  not 
applicable  to  republics,  would,  therefore,  hard 
ly  have  been  surprised  if  he  had  been  informed 
that  Hanson  was  about  to  take  up  his  residence 
in  the  "White  House.  As  it  was,  he  counted 
mightily  on  the  ex-groom's  influence,  and  fully 
expected  to  be  introduced  by  him  into  the  best 
society  of  the  city. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when,  after  a  long  and  futile  search,  he  found 
Hanson's  cottage.  Its  architectural  unpreten- 
tiousness  was  a  little  disappointing  to  Bodill, 
but  he  consoled  himself  with  the  reflection 
that,  in  all  likelihood,  the  stability  of  the  re 
public  required  that  its  greatest  citizens  should 
be  conspicuous,  not  for  vulgar  luxury  and  show, 
but  for  stern  simplicity  and  uprightness.  The 
idea  was  certainly  a  beautiful  one,  and  Hanson 
was  worthy  of  all  honor  for  adhering  to  it  so 
rigidly.  With  a  palpitating  heart  he  approach 
ed  the  front  door,  deposited  Tita,  who  had  just 
waked  up  from  a  sound  nap,  on  the  steps,  and 
proceeded  to  whip  the  dust  off  his  shoes  with 
his  handkerchief.  He  then  arranged  his  hair 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  15 

hastily,  took  Tita  by  the  hand,  and  rang  the 
door  bell.  A  slatternly-looking  blonde  woman, 
with  a  baby  on  her  arm.  opened  the  door  and 
asked  him  rather  gruffly  what  he  wanted.  If 
there  was  any  patent  he  was  pedling,  she 
would  tell  him  beforehand  that  she  had  no 
time  to  look  at  it.  The  young  man  answered, 
with  extreme  deference,  that  he  had  nothing  to 
sell,  but  that  he  had  letters  to  Mr.  Hanson 
from  his  relatives  in  Norway,  and  that  he  was 
very  desirous  to  deliver  them  in  person.  His 
name  was  Quintus  Boclill,  and  he  had  himself 
had  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Hanson's  acquaintance 
in  his  childhood. 

"Good  Lord!"  cried  the  woman,  in  Nor 
wegian,  hurriedly  depositing  the  baby  on  the 
floor  and  grasping  Quintus  by  the  hand,  "  are 
you  Quintus  Boclill,  Colonel  Bodill's  son? 
How  glad  Syvert  will  be  to  see  you !  Walk  in, 
sir,  walk  in.  Don't  mind  the  looks  of  thingsj 
please.  The  children  have  it  all  their  own  way 
here  in  the  morning.  And  this  is  your  little 
daughter,  I  suppose.  And  I,  who  didn't  know 
you  were  married  even ;  and  not  Syvert  either.'* 


16  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

"I  am  not  married/'  said  Quintus,  blushing 
to  the  edge  of  his  hair. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hanson,  in  a  more 
subdued  tone. 

She  looked  at  her  visitor  with  a  sort  of  blunt 
kindliness  which  would  have  been  amusing  to 
any  one  less  finely  organized  than  Quintus  was. 
He  writhed  under  her  imputation,  which  was 
too  subtle  to  allow  of  a  defence ;  moreover  he 
felt  that  by  the  embarrassment  of  his  man 
ner  he  was  accumulating  inferential  evidence 
against  himself. 

"  Tita  is  not  my  daughter,"  he  managed  at 
last  to  stammer,  as  he  seated  himself  on  a  car 
pet-covered  lounge  of  loud  coloring.  "  I  mere 
ly  picked  her  up  on  the  steamship " 

"  Oh  yes,  yes ;  I  understand,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Hanson,  with  a  smile  of  undisguised  skep 
ticism.  "  She  is  a  beautiful  child  anyway,  and 
likely  as  not  you  are  quite  proud  of  her.  Seems 
to  me  she  features  you  consid'able." 

Quintus,  with  a  little  superfluous  show  of 
dignity,  rose  to  take  his  leave.  She,  however, 
entirely  unconscious  that  she  had  given  offence, 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  17 

urged  him  to  stay  to  supper,  as  Sjvert  would 
then  have  returned.  He  yielded  reluctantly, 
because  he  knew  of  nothing  else  to  do ;  and 
learned  from  the  intermittent  conversation  of 
the  hostess  during  the  next  three  hours  that 
Mr.  Hanson  was  not  a  member  of  the  cabinet 
at  Washington,  nor  even  mayor  of  New  York, 
but  a  box-maker  for  the  great  publishing  firm 
of  J.  C.  Dimpleton  &  Co.,  in  the  city.  The 
republican  simplicity  of  his  household  thus 
became  less  enigmatical.  A  va^t  edifice  of 
heaven-scaling  aspirations  which  Quintus  had 
during  the  voyage  been  erecting  on  the  basis 
of  Hanson's  hypothetical  eminence  now  tum 
bled  down  over  his  head.  He  evidently  had 
nothing  to  hope  from  Hanson  except,  perhaps, 
a  kindly  greeting  and  some  practical  advice,  of 
which  he  was  sadly  in  need. 

About  six  o'clock  Hanson  arrived,  and  by 
his  mere  appearance  made  Bodill  feel  the  ut 
ter  absurdity  of  his  expectations.  He  was,  to 
be  sure,  an  honest-looking  man,  rough  and 
square-built,  loud  in  his  manners,  and,  on  the 
whole,  a  very  slight  and  perfectly  intelligible 


18  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

modification  of  the  former  groom,  whom  Quin- 
tus  had  admired  twelve  years  ago  for  qual 
ities  which  now  no  longer  commanded  his  ad 
miration.  One  conspicuous  change,  however, 
seemed  to  have  taken  place  in  Hanson  since 
his  transplanting  into  American  soil — he  had 
learned  to  think.  His  vocabulary,  though 
neither  choice  nor  abundant,  was  certainly 
energetic  and  expressive,  and  indicated  that 
his  thought,  which  formerly  had  rarely  risen 
above  the  sphere  of  the  stable,  had  gained  a 
much  wider  range.  He  had,  especially,  very 
definite  opinions  on  politics,  and  expressed 
with  much  confidence  what  he  would  have 
done  in  a  certain  recent  emergency,  in  case  he 
had  been  President,  until  Quintus,  who  in  his 
Norse  simplicity  was  quite  impressed  by  such 
magnificent  talk,  began  to  wonder  whether  the 
President  might  not  have  a  personal  grudge 
against  Hanson,  since  he  so  persistently  neg 
lected  to  consult  him.  The  latter,  greatly  en 
couraged  by  his  guest's  impressibility,  now 
began  to  patronize  him  more  conspicuously, 
promised  him  the  benefit  of  his  protection, 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  19 

unfolded  his  plan  for  the  conduct  of  the  war 
(which  was  then  in  progress),  and  aroused 
again  in  Quintus's  bosom  all  the  expectations 
to  which  he  had,  but  a  moment  ago,  bidden 
a  reluctant  farewell.  After  all,  Hanson  might 
be  at  the  same  time  a  box-maker,  and  an  im 
portant  personage  in  the  republic.  Very  likely 
that  was  the  peculiarity  of  republics,  that  men, 
after  having  been  divested  of  the  insignia  of 
office,  returned  to  their  former  obscurity,  with 
a  chance,  however,  of  being  again  as  suddenly 
raised  to  the  pinnacle  of  glory.  "Was  not  Cin- 
cinnatus  taken  from  the  plough  to  be  made  dic 
tator  of  Kome  ?  And  President  Lincoln,  who 
was  then  occupying  the  "White  House,  had  he 
not  been  a  rail-splitter  ?  Why  might  not  a 
box-maker,  then,  be 'suddenly  called  from  his 
boxes  and  charged  to  organize  a  cabinet? 
Hanson  promptly  rose  to  his  former  eminence 
in  Quintus's  estimation,  and  he  was  not  a  lit 
tle  pleased  when  the  great  man  proposed  to 
him  that  he  and  Tita  should  take,  at  a  moder 
ate  rent,  the  two  spare  rooms  upstairs,  which 
had  recently  been  furnished  for  the  purpose  of 


20  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

accommodating  a  lodger.  Mrs.  Hanson  prom 
ised  to  look  after  the  little  girl  while  Mr.  Bo- 
dill  was  at  his  business,  and  considering  the 
old  friendship  of  the  families  (old  Colonel  Bo- 
dill  ought  to  have  heard  that  remark,  Quintus 
reflected,  smiling),  she  would  charge  but  a  trifle 
for  her  extra  trouble.  The  bargain  was  read 
ily  concluded,  and  the  two  European  innocents 
were  immediately  installed  in  their  new  abode. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Hanson  proved  the  value 
of  his  protection  by  introducing  Quintus  to 
his  employer,  Mr.  Dimpleton,  who  seemed  to 
be  greatly  pleased  with  the  young  Norseman's 
appearance,  and,  after  some  parley,  engaged 
him  at  a  salary  of  forty  dollars  a  month  as 
clerk  in  his  wholesale  department.  The  same 
evening  Quintus  wrote  a  jubilant  letter  to  the 
family  at  home,  in  which  he  declared  that  he 
had  mounted  the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder  of 
fortune,  and  that  he  had  now  a  fair  chance  of  be 
coming  anything  except  President  of  the  United 
States,  from  which  office  his  foreign  birth  ex 
cluded  him — a  fact  which  he  greatly  regretted. 

About  Tita,  however,  he  did  not  write  a  word. 


III. 


THE  first  four  years  of  Bodill's  sojourn  in 
the  land  of  liberty  were  extremely  uneventful. 
His  time  was  chiefly  occupied  in  writing  busi 
ness  letters,  and  in  becoming  Americanized, 
which  latter  process  is,  to  be  sure,  not  a  con 
scious  act,  but  a  slow  psychological  fermen 
tation  which  gradually  changes  one's  original 
Old  World  substance  into  something  rich  and 
new  and  strange.  Quintus,  at  all  events,  was 
satisfied  that  his  metamorphosed  self,  at  the 
end  of  the  four  years,  was  a  finer  and  more 
valuable  article  than  the  primitive  Norse  self, 
which  he  brought  over  in  the  Melanesia.  He 
looked  back  with  supreme  pity  upon  the  naive 
notions  of  the  world  which  he  then  entertain 
ed,  smiled  at  his  exalted  opinions  of  Hanson 
(whose  patronage  he  now  received  with  good- 
humored  persiflage),  and,  on  the  whole,  treated 
the  still  surviving  remnant  of  his  Norse  per 
sonality  as  a  younger  and  slightly  weak-minded 

21 


22  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

brother  who  stood  in  constant  need  of  his  su 
perior  protection  and  counsel. 

To  Tita,  on  the  other  hand,  the  first  years  of 
her  transatlantic  existence  were  crowded  with 
important  events.  In  the  first  place,  she  dis 
played  a  singular  tenacity  of  purpose  in  out 
growing,  every  five  or  six  months,  her  frocks, 
her  shoes,  and  her  stockings,  not  to  speak  of 
those  little  garments  which  (according  to  fem 
inine  notions)  have  to  be  embroidered  all  over, 
even  though  they  are  never  meant  to  be  seen ; 
and  Mrs.  Hanson,  who  understood  that  she 
had  carte-blanche  in  providing  for  Tita's  ward 
robe,  indulged  her  taste  for  finery  to  an  extent 
which  sometimes  made  Quintus  groan,  and 
would  have  betrayed  him  into  the  use  of  ener 
getic  language,  if  he  had  not  been  the  kindest 
and  most  good-natured  of  men.  However,  Tita 
was  so  daintily  made, — so  soft  and  sweet  and 
dimpled, — that  nothing  could  really  be  too  good 
for  her.  Her  vanity  ought  not  to  be  encour 
aged,  he  would  often  reason :  and  the  next  day, 
very  likely,  he  paid  for  a  blue  silk  sash,  or  a 
plumed  hat  (which  was  miraculously  becom- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  23 

ing),  or  a  lace-covered  little  parasol,  fit  for 
Queen  Titania  to  carry.  What  wonder,  then, 
that  Tita  was  well  satisfied  with  the  American 
republic!  Yet,  to  do  her  justice,  there  were 
other  things  which  she  valued  more  highly 
than  ornamental  millinery.  She  always  had  a 
vehement  kiss  and  embrace  for  Quintus  every 
evening  when  he  returned  from  his  business, 
and  she  could  never  be  induced  by  Mrs.  Han 
son  to  close  her  eyes  before  Quint  had  pre 
sented  himself  at  her  bed  and  had  submitted  to 
being  smothered  with  caresses.  Then  there 
was  inevitably  a  little  story  with  a  pointed 
moral,  whereupon  followed  a  long  and  affec 
tionate  coaxing  for  another,  and  still  another, 
until  the  long,  dark  lashes  began  to  droop,  and 
the  obedient  squirrel  children,  and  the  naughty 
fairy  who  received  such  summary  punishment, 
and  the^refractory  little  bird  that  found  such  a 
tragic  end  under  the  cat's  claw,  all  joined  in 
a  confused  procession,  underwent  queer  trans 
formations,  and  hovered  away  into  dreamland. 
I  am  extremely  sorry  to  record  the  fact  that 
Tita  sometimes  was  naughty.  She  had,  not 


24  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

infrequently,  violent  disputes  with  Syvert  Han 
son,  Jr.,  a  young  man  of  her  own  age,  and 
if  he  did  not  yield  to  persuasion,  she  would 
adopt  more  serious  measures,  as,  for  instance, 
boxing  his  ears  or  pulling  his  hair.  Mrs. 
Hanson  would  then  interfere  in  her  son's  be 
half,  and  the  slate  which  hung  over  Quintus's 
desk  would  then  in  the  evening  contain  the 
sad  record  of  Tita's  misdemeanors.  On  such 
evenings  there  were  no  story  and  no  "good 
night  kiss,"  even  though  it  nearly  broke  Quin 
tus's  heart  to  hear  Tita  calling  him  with  a 
voice  that  gradually  grew  feebler  as  she  sob 
bed  herself  to  sleep.  It  occurred  to  her  one 
day,  when  her  conscience  was  not  quite  at  ease, 
to  break  the  "  misdemeanor  slate,"  which  she 
regarded  as  the  cause  of  all  her  sufferings ;  but 
it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  ingenuity  of  Mrs. 
Hanson  soon  provided  another.  Poor  Tita, 
how  she  suffered  during  the  long  hours  of  sus 
pense  while  she  stood  weeping  at  the  door  lis 
tening  for  Quint's  well-known  footsteps  in  the 
hall!  And  with  what  remorseful  tenderness 
she  flung  herself  upon  his  neck  as  he  entered, 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  25 

and  confessed  all  her  misdoings,  anxious  only 
to  forestall  the  testimony  of  the  dreadful  slate. 
Quintus,  then,  in  spite  of  his  stern  resolu 
tions  to  the  contrary,  would  gradually  relent, 
and,  while  half-unconsciously  returning  her  car 
resses,  would  wring  her  little  heart  by  his 
sham  grief  over  her  monstrous  wickedness.  For 
all  that,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  Quintus 
failed  to  realize  the  gravity  of  the  task  he  had 
undertaken  in  becoming  responsible  for  Tita's 
education.  If  he  erred  at  all,  it  was  on  the 
side  of  over-conscientiousness.  He  read  Spen 
cer,  Pestalozzi,  and  even  Kant's  "  Critique  of 
Pure  Eeason,"  with  sole  reference  to  Tita's 
misdemeanors ;  he  listened  gravely,  and  with 
a  sincere  desire  to  be  enlightened,  to  the  lec 
tures  of  reforming  monomaniacs,  and  he  even 
began  a  system  of  severe  self-scrutiny,  hoping, 
by  constant  watchfulness  of  his  every  thought 
and  act,  to  become,  in  time,  a  worthy  example 
to  his  ward. 

Curiously  enough,  it  never  occurred  to  Quin 
tus  that  Tita  was  educating  him  quite  as  much 
as  he  was  educating  Tita.  She  gave,  by  her 


26  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

dependence  upon  him,  a  value  to  his  life  which 
it  had  never  possessed  before.  At  home,  as 
one  of  twelve  children,  he  had  never  flattered 
himself  that  he  was  of  much  account.  He 
knew  perfectly  well  that  he  could  easily  be 
spared,  and  that  his  parents  (even  though 
they  loved  him  very  sincerely)  must  find  some 
compensation  for  his  loss  in  the  fact  that  his 
departure  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  New 
World  had  created  a  vacancy  at  their  intermi 
nable  dinner- table.  He  had  never  distinguished 
himself  either  in  school  or  in  college,  except 
on  a  single  occasion  when  he  took  a  prize  in 
Greek;  and  he  had  become  thoroughly  con 
vinced  that  he  was  a  mere  average  mortal,  who, 
as  his  name  indicated,  had  no  other  mission  in 
the  world  than  to  figure  numerically  in  the 
census.  Now  fate  had  attached  another  life  to 
his,  and  accordingly,  without  reflecting  much 
about  it,  he  rose  perceptibly  in  his  own  esti 
mation.  All  his  thoughts  and  aspirations  cen 
tred  in  Tita.  If  he  had  a  new  coat  made,  he 
enjoyed  beforehand  the  pleasure  she  would 
take  in  watching  him  from  the  window  as  he 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  27 

stalked  up  the  street,  conscious  of  his  good 
appearance,  and  he  would  smile  a  very  affec 
tionate  smile  to  himself  and  puzzle  his  tailor 
as  he  was  just  shouting  out  the  numbers  of  his 
measure.  If  sometimes,  in  crossing  the  ferry, 
he  saw  a  vision  of  wealth  and  glory  unfolding 
itself  in  the  wintry  sky,  it  was  Tita,  and  always 
Tita,  who  was  to  benefit  by  his  greatness ;  it 
was  Tita  who  was  to  shine  in  silks  and  satins 
and  have  the  great  aristocratic  world  at  her 
feet ;  and  he — well,  he  would  stand  behind 
Tita's  chair  and  smile  and  feel  happy  in  her 
splendor.  On  Saturday  nights,  when  he  was 
always  in  the  habit  of  bringing  her  some  tri 
fling  present,  he  would  run  up  the  stairs  like 
a  boy  to  receive  her  greeting,  and  she  would, 
with  much  laughter  and  coaxing,  investigate 
his  pockets,  one  after  another,  while  he  always 
feigned  an  exaggerated  grief  at  having  forgot 
ten  the  accustomed  gift;  and  when  finally  it 
was  found  in  some  inconspicuous  pocket,  he 
would  pretend  to  be  greatly  surprised,  while 
she  would  dance  triumphantly  about  him,  and 
hug  him,  and  call  him  all  manner  of  affection- 


28  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

ate  names.  And  Quintus  felt  so  supremely 
happy  that  he  snatched  Tita  up  in  his  arms  and 
whirled  around  the  room  with  her  like  a  mad 
man.  Nevertheless,  as  I  have  said,  he  never 
reflected  upon  what  he  would  have  been  with 
out  Tita.  The  case  seemed  hardly  suppos- 
able.  Tita  as  an  educator !  How  ridiculous ! 


IV. 

QUINTUS  remained  nearly  eleven  years  in  the 
employ  of  the  firm  of  J.  C.  Dimple  ton  &  Co. 
before  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  head 
of  the  house  in  any  but  his  official  capacity. 
Then  a  little  incident  happened  which  was 
fraught  with  greater  consequences  to  Bodill 
than  he  ever  had  anticipated.  A  certain 
well-known  Greek  scholar,  Professor  P — 
(more  remarkable  for  his  skill  in  concocting 
text-books  than  for  real  learning),  was  about  to 
publish  an  edition  of  the  orations  of  Demos 
thenes  through  the  firm  of  Dimpleton  &  Co- 
A  large  package  of  proof-sheets,  already  re 
vised  by  the  editor,  had  to  be  opened  by  Quiii- 
tus  before  being  returned  to  the  printer,  and 
on  casting  a  glance  on  the  page  he  discovered 
what,  according  to  the  best  authorities,  was  a 
false  reading.  He  then  began  to  investigate 
the  text  carefully,  and  found  several  other  evi 
dences  of  what  he  would  call  either  ignorance 
or  very  careless  editing. 

29 


30  QUEEN   TITANIA. 

Kindled  with  learned  zeal,  lie  seized  the 
proof-sheets  and  walked  rapidly  to  Mr.  Dimple- 
ton's  private  office,  and  asked  for  the  privilege 
of  a  moment's  conversation.  Mr.  Dimpleton, 
who  was  a  solemn  and  somewhat  pompous  man, 
with  close-trimmed  gray  side  whiskers  and  a 
bald  head,  raised  his  eyes  questioningly  to  the 
clerk  and  asked  rather  sharply  what  he  wanted. 
Quintus  explained  briefly  the  mistakes  he  had 
discovered,  and  requested  Mr.  Dimpleton' s  per 
mission  to  communicate  with  the  editor,  as  in 
his  opinion  it  was  not  consistent  with  the  dig 
nity  of  the  firm  to  publish  an  unscholarly  work. 
Mr.  Dimpleton  gazed  for  a  moment  in  blank 
amazement  at  his  employe. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  then,"  he  said,  after 
having  recovered  from  his  amazement,  "  that 
you  know  more  about  Demosthenes  than  the 
professor  who  has  written  this  book  ?  " 

"  That  I  cannot  say ;  but  he  is  evidently  not 
acquainted  with  the  latest  criticisms  and  emen 
dations  of  the  text." 

"Well,  if  you  wish  to  communicate  with  him 
I  have  no  objection ;  but  I  doubt  if  you  will 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  31 

beat  him  as  easily  as  you  imagine.  We  have 
published  a  number  of  his  text-books,  and  they 
have  all  sold  well." 

Quintus  withdrew  hastily,  feeling  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  a  sort  of  superior  pity  for 
Mr.  Dimpleton,  whom,  in  spite  of  his  stately 
demeanor,  he  could  not  but  regard  as  a  man  of 
crude  taste  and  judgment.  He  was  resolved  at 
any  rate  to  have  the  errors  in  the  Greek  text 
corrected,  and  accordingly  sat  down  and  wrote 

a  plain  and  respectful  letter  to  Professor  P , 

calling  his  attention  to  the  latest  works  of  Ger 
man  scholars,  and,  moreover,  to  some  impor 
tant  articles  bearing  upon  the  subject  in  a 
recent  number  of  a  philological  journal.  The 
next  day  he  received  a  telegram,  thanking  him 
for  his  suggestions,  and  requesting  him  to  stop 
the  stereotyping  of  the  book  until  the  text 
could  be  subjected  to  a  second  revision.  This 
was  very  flattering  to  his  scholarly  pride,  and 
he  treated  himself  to  a  bottle  of  porter  at 
luncheon,  in  recognition  of  his  services  to 
science  and  humanity.  A  man  who  at  the  age 
of  thirty-one  still  read  Homer  and  Demosthenes 


32  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

for  pastime,  and  who  at  a  pinch  could  even 
himself  concoct  a  respectable  Greek  hexameter, 
was,  after  all,  not  to  be  sniffed  at,  he  reflected, 
smilingly ;  he  was,  in  all  probability,  some 
what  above  the  average  of  his  kind,  and  he 
justly  deserved  to  lunch  at  seventy-five  instead 
of  fifty  cents. 

Quintus  was  in  a  radiant  mood  as  he  again 
seated  himself  at  his  desk,  and  began,  half- 
mechanically,  to  open  the  letters  which  had 
arrived  by  the  noon  mail.  He  was  so  absorbed 
in  his  joyous  meditations  that  he  failed  to  ob 
serve  that  some  one  was  approaching  him  from 
behind,  and  that  a  hand  was  placed  on  the 
back  of  his  chair.  Suddenly,  at  the  sound  of 
his  name,  he  turned  around  and  saw  Mr.  Dim- 
pleton.  The  publisher  seemed  to  have  some 
thing  on  his  conscience,  and  seated  himself 
rather  uneasily  on  a  lounge  inside  the  railing 
which  bounded  Quintus's  domain. 

"  Mr.  Bodill,"  he  began,  in  his  peculiar,  con 
strained  manner,  in  which  there  was,  nowever, 
a  vague  intention  of  friendliness,  "  I  was  some 
what  preoccupied  yesterday  morning  when  you 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  33 

spoke  to  me  about  the  Greek  text.  I  am 
afraid  I  gave  you  the  impression  that  I  wished 
to  discourage  your  interest  in  the  concerns  of 
the  firm.  Such,  I  assure,  you,  was  not  my  in 
tention." 

"  I  was  not  discouraged,  Mr.  Dimpleton," 
replied  Quintus,  cheerfully.  "  My  zeal  for 
Greek  is  never  easily  discouraged.  It  is  what 
saves  my  self-respect  when  I  am  inclined  to  be 
too  modest  in  my  estimate  of  myself.  And 

Professor  P ,  as  if  he  knew  my  weakness, 

has  proven  himself  a  subtle  flatterer." 

He  handed  his  chief  the  telegram  which  he 
had  just  received,  and  gazed  smilingly  at  his 
face  while  he  read  it. 

"Very  gratifying,"  murmured  Mr.  Dimple- 
ton,  "very  gratifying  indeed." 

He  took  up  his  hat  and  stroked  it  three  or 
four  times  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat. 

"  Speaking  of  Greek,"  he  said,  gazing  criti 
cally  at  the  inside  of  the  hat,  "  it  occurred  to 
me  that  perhaps  it  might  interest  you  to  meet 
my  daughter,  who  has,  I  believe,  made  quite  a 
study  of  the  Greek  classics.  At  all  events,  if 


34  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

you  have  no  previous  engagement,  we  shall 
expect  you  to  dine  with  us  to-night  at  seven 
o'clock." 

Quiutus  was  somewhat  nonplussed  by  this 
unexpected  proposition,  but  was  careful  to  con 
ceal  his  surprise. 

"I  shall  be  very  happy,"  he  said,  "to  make 
Miss  Dimple  ton's  acquaintance." 

"  And  remember,  seven  o'clock." 

"  I  shall  not  forget." 

After  having  despatched  the  business  of  the 
day,  Quintus  accordingly  returned  home  by 
the  ferry  a  little  earlier  than  usual,  made  an 
elaborate  toilet  (which  excited  Tita  im 
mensely),  and  at  the  appointed  hour  rang  the 
door-bell  of  a  handsome  house  in  Madison 
Avenue.  The  door  was  promptly  flung  open 
by  a  martial-looking  negro  in  blue-and-yellow 
livery,  who  scanned  him  critically,  and  finally 
decided  to  permit  him  to  enter.  Quintus,  who 
very  opportunely  remembered  that  the  pedi 
gree  of  the  Bodills  dated  back  to  the  earls  of 
the  ninth  century,  determined  in  his  heart  not 
to  be  dazzled,  although  (to  be  candid)  the  som- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  35 

bre  magnificence  of  the  parlor,  with  its  enor 
mous  mirrors,  its  rich,  dark  curtains,  its  gilt- 
framed  pictures  and  artistic  decorations,  was, 
to  his  innocent  Norse  eyes,  marvellously  im 
pressive.  A  parlor  had  always,  to  him,  signi 
fied  a  very  simple  arrangement  of  tables  and 
chairs,  inclosed  within  four  walls;  the  chairs 
intended  for  sitting  on,  and  the  tables  for 
depositing  books,  paper-cutters,  and  other 
stray  objects  upon.  But  this  wonderful  com 
plexity  of  harmoniously  blending  lines  and 
colors ;  this  studied  combination  of  effects  in 
carpets,  draperies,  and  in  each  separate  group 
of  furniture  ;  this  subdued  and  impressive  ert- 
semble — indeed  the  earls  of  the  ninth  century 
themselves  would  have  felt  for  a  moment 
stunned  in  Mr.  Dimpleton's  parlor. 

Quintus  somehow  derived  the  impression 
that  Miss  Dimpleton,  even  though  she  did 
wear  spectacles,  and,  possibly,  short  hair,  was 
a  lady  of  taste  and  refinement.  His  reflections, 
however,  were  cut  short  by  the  sudden  con 
sciousness  that  some  one  was  approaching 
from  one  side.  He  turned  quickly  and  saw  a 


36  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

young  lady,  apparently  not  far  advanced  in  the 
twenties,  holding  out  her  hand  to  him  and 
bowing  in  gracious  recognition  of  his  greeting. 

"  I  am  very  happy  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Bodill," 
she  said,  motioning  him  to  be  seated. 

"  Have  I  the  honor  to  speak  with  Miss  Dim- 
pleton  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  certainly  have  that  honor,"  an 
swered  the  young  lady,  with  a  frank  laugh. 

Quintus  had  somehow  got  the  spectacles  and 
the  short  hair  so  firmly  associated  with  Miss 
Dimple  ton's  personality  that  he  could  hardly 
conceal  his  surprise  at  the  agreeable  disap 
pointment.  For  Miss  Dimpleton,  though  you 
would  at  first  sight  have  pronounced  her  a 
sensible  girl,  about  whom  there  was  no  non 
sense,  had  nothing  "  emancipated"  or  unpleas 
antly  aggressive  in  her  manner  or  appearance  ; 
and  yet  it  occurred  to  Bodill,  as  he  sat  looking 
quite  guilelessly  into  her  pure,  handsome  face, 
that  she  would  have  made  a  very  nice  boy. 
Especially  were  the  large  gray  eyes  expres 
sive  of  a  fearless  candor  which  one  associates 
rather  with  the  male  than  with  the  female  sex. 


QUEEN  TTTANIA.  37 

The  distinctive  feature  of  her  face,  however, 
was  a  fairly  well-modelled  mouth,  about  which 
there  was  a  strangely  conscious  air.  She  moved 
her  lips  a  little  too  much  when  she  spoke, 
and  always  with  a  certain  curious  precision. 

"And  you  are  the  disguised  prince  or 
viking,"  she  was  saying,  as  she  seated  herself 
opposite  her  guest,  "  whom  father  has  kept 
concealed  for  years  down  in  his  store  without 
communicating  the  fact  to  his  family.  Now 
tell  me,  how  can  a  gentleman  of  your  wild 
and  fierce  ancestry  tolerate  being  chained  to 
a  writing-desk  for  so  long  a  time  ?  Don't 
your  ancestral  instincts  sometimes  awake  in 
you  ?  Don't  you  occasionally  feel  like  break 
ing  the  furniture  ?  " 

"  Our  blood  has  been  very  much  diluted  and 
our  type  enfeebled  and  subdued  during  the 
last  five  or  six  centuries,"  he  answered,  with  a 
pleasant  laugh.  "  I  am  nothing  but  a  degen 
erate  late-comer,  who  am  conscious  of  no  he 
roic  instincts  whatever." 

"  In  the  matter  of  Greek,  however,  I  am  told 
that  you  have  finely  developed  critical  eyes — 


38  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

a  trait  which,  by  the  way,  I  should  never  have 
expected  in  so  close  a  relative  of  William  the 
Conqueror." 

"  Well,  there,  you  see,  you  draw  a  rash  con 
clusion.  You,  too,  for  aught  you  know,  may 
be  a  relative  of  some  blood-thirsty  Saxon  bar 
barian,  and  yet  you  have  an  enthusiasm  for 
Homer  which  very  likely  would  have  been  in 
comprehensible,  even  to  your  nearest  kin,  a 
dozen  generations  back." 

"  Yery  likely.  We  have  all  kept  pace  in  our 
change  of  tastes  and  habits.  Imagine,  in  case 
we  had  met,  say  eight  centuries  ago,  how  dif 
ferent  we  should  both  have  been,  and  how  dif 
ferent  our  meeting.  You  would,  of  course, 
have  been  a  Norse  viking,  with  long  blond 
hair,  picturesque  attire,  and  predatory  habits. 
I  should  have  been — let  me  see — the  daughter 
of  some  Saxon  thane,  who  sat  with  my  maids 
and  spun  the  yellow  flax  the  livelong  day,  and 
only  appeared  in  the  parlor  on  state  occasions. 
Well,  we  will  say  that  your  arrival  were  such 
an  occasion,  what  do  you  suppose  we  should 
have  talked  about  ?  " 


QUEEN  TITAN  I  A.  39 

"  If  I  came  with  a  peaceful  purpose,  I  should 
tell  you  of  my  adventures  on  sea  and  land  ;  but 
if,  as  is  more  probable,  I  came  intent  on  mis 
chief,  I  should  carry  you  011  board  my  ship 
without  consulting  your  wishes,  and  you 
would  be  very  sea-sick  on  the  voyage  to  Nor 
way." 

"  How  dreadful !  "  she  cried,  merrily.  "  How 
fortunate  that  we  did  not  meet  in  the  eleventh 
century !  " 

"And  who  knows,"  he  reflected  smilingly, 
"  whether  I  may  not  do  the  very  same  thing  in 
the  nineteenth."  But  aloud  he  said,  while  his 
smile  grew  so  irresistible  that  she  could  not 
help  joining,  "  Worse  things  may  happen  to 
a  woman  than  being  carried  away  to  Norway." 

They  were  now  fairly  launched  on  a  playful 
discussion  which  had  yet  seriousness  enough 
in  it.  to  make  it  not  wholly  unprofitable.  Then 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dimple  ton  appeared,  just  as  the 
butler  pushed  back  the  folding-doors  to  the 
dining-room,  displaying  a  table  which  appealed 
to  all  Bodill's  senses  at  once,  except  that  of 
hearing,  this  latter  sense  being  kept  steadily 


40  QUEEN  TTTANIA. 

and  agreeably  busy  by  Miss  Dimpleton.  It 
required  no  great  amount  of  insight  to  dis 
cover  that  she  was  the  ruling  genius  of  the 
household ;  for  the  quick  way  in  which  she 
surveyed  her  father's  toilet  as  he  entered,  and 
then  sent  him  an  approving  little  nod,  as  much 
as  to  say  that  he  had  done  nobly,  could  only 
be  interpreted  to  mean  that  Mr.  Dimpleton  was 
naturally  too  fond  of  undress,  and  subjected 
himself  to  the  inconvenience  of  frequent  toilets 
out  of  regard  for  his  daughter's  opinion.  The 
butler,  too,  betrayed  some  little  uneasiness  as 
she  paused  to  take  in  the  total  effect'  of  the 
table,  and  was  apparently  relieved  when,  in  the 
next  moment,  she  was  smiling  with  evident 
amusement  at  one  of  Bodill's  remarks. 

Mrs.  Dimpleton  was  that  deplorable  Ameri 
can  institution,  the  chronic  invalid.  She  had 
a  pale  and  withered  look,  sighed  frequently,  as 
if  she  thought  that  life  was,  after  all,  a  weari 
some  affair,  and  while  speaking  cast  her  eyes 
in  an  aimless,  wandering  way  up  toward  the 
ceiling,  as  if  she  sought  a  solution  there  of  the 
troubles  which  perplexed  her.  She  was  small 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  41 

and  daintily  made,  and  her  features  bore  yet  in 
them  a  faded  memory  of  their  beauty. 

"  Jessie  tells  me  that  you  are  such  a  great 
scholar,  Mr.  Bodill,"  she  said,  between  two  sips 
of  the  soup. 

"  Miss  Dimpleton  is  very  kind  to  say  such 
pleasant  things  about  me,"  he  answered ;  "  al 
though  I  hope,  for  her  sake,  that  the  Kecording 
Angel  was  off  duty  when  she  said  it." 

"  You  must  pardon  me  if  I  don't  quite  under 
stand  you,"  sighed  his  hostess.  "You  must 
remember  I  am  not  learned  at  all,  like  you  and 
Jessie." 

"Mr.  Bodill  only  hints  that  I  have  exag 
gerated  his  scholarship,  mother,"  commented 
Miss  Jessie,  from  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"  Now,  speaking  of  scholarship,"  Mrs.  Dim 
pleton  went  on,  as  the  waiter  was  removing  the 
soup-plates,  "  do  you  know  Jessie  there  "  (she 
lowered  her  voice  to  an  almost  confidential 
whisper),  "reads  and  speaks  Latin,  and  Greek, 
and  Hebrew,  and  Gothic,  and  Anglo-Saxon,  and 
I  don't  know  how  many  other  outlandish 
tongues.  Her  teacher,  Mr.  Schnabelstein,  told 


42  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

me  she  was  the  greatest  genius  he  had  ever 
known.  And  only  think  of  it,  he  was  a  Ger 
man  professor,  and  we  paid  him  four  dollars 
an  hour.  He  even  said  that " 

"  Mother,  mother,"  interrupted  Miss  Jessie, 
laughingly,  "  I  know  by  your  expression  that 
you  are  on  your  favorite  theme.  Please  don't 
tell  Mr.  Bodill  how  that  rogue  Schnabelstein 
gave  vent  to  his  imagination  as  a  preliminary 
to  obtaining  from  you  a  loan  of  two  hundred 
dollars.  When  Mr.  Bodill  finds  out  what  a 
poor  blunderer  I  am,  I  shall  seem  positively 
ridiculous  to  him,  unless  he  has  the  kindness 
to  forget  Mr.  Schnabelstein's  insincere  praises." 

"  Now,  Mr.  Bodill,"  the  elder  lady  resumed, 
unmindful  of  her  daughter's  interruption,  "  that 
is  the  way  she  is  all  the  time,  whenever  I 
say  anything  about  her  accomplishments.  Of 
course  I  can't  keep  track  of  all  the  languages 
she  learns,  but  I  believe  the  last  one  she 
studied  was  the  Crop  tic." 

"The  Croptic?"  repeated  Quintus,  looking 
quite  puzzled. 

",0h,  mother ! "  cried  the  daughter,  in  mock 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  43 

despair,  in  which  there  was,  however,  a  note 
of  real  annoyance  ;  "  I  never  studied  the  Crop- 
tic  language,  nor  the  Coptic  either.  Mr.  Bo- 
dill,"  she  continued,  turning  to  Quintus,  "my 
mother  imagines  that  whenever  I  mention  a 
thing  I  necessarily  know  it.  The  other  day  I 
was  reading  a  French  essay  with  some  interest 
ing  references  in  it  to  the  Copts,  and,  in  en 
deavoring  to  tell  the  substance  of  it  to  a  friend 
who  was  here  the  other  evening,  I  evidently 
gave  the  impression  to  mother  that  I  was 
studying  Coptic." 

Mr.  Dimpleton,  who  during  this  conversation 
had  maintained  a  severely  neutral  countenance, 
as  if  neither  the  Croptic  nor  the  Coptic  in 
the  least  concerned  him,  now  raised  his  clean 
shaven  chin  out  of  his  stiff  cravat,  and  inquir 
ed,  in  a  hushed  and  solemn  voice,  whether 
they  had  lobsters  in  Norway  ?  Mr.  Bodill,  al 
though  the  abruptness  of  the  question  struck 
him  as  very  ludicrous,  replied  gravely  in  the 
affirmative.  "  And  were  the  Norwegian  lobsters 
very  good  ?  "  "  They  were  excellent,  thank  you." 
"And  did  the  natives  of  Norway  dress  in  fur  all 


44  QUEEN  TTTANIA. 

the  year  round  ?  "  "  No,  they  did  not  when  they 
went  to  bed,  nor  in  the  ballroom,  nor,  in  fact, 
on  any  other  occasion,  except  in  midwinter, 
when  they  were  travelling."  ""What  were  the 
staples  of  diet  in  Norway  ?  "  "  They  were  bread, 
meat,  fish,  milk,  very  much  as  in  the  rest  of  the 
civilized  world  " — all  of  which  seemed  very  won 
derful  and  surprising  to  Mr.  Dimpleton.  Quin- 
tus  was  just  beginning  to  feel  like  a  wild  man 
of  Borneo,  or  a  polar  bear  escaped  from  a  men 
agerie,  when  his  host  (as-  Quintus  suspected, 
at  a  hint  from  his  daughter)  took  pity  on  him, 
and  suddenly  ceased  to  exhibit  his  interest  in 
Norway.  He  had,  of  course,  been  under  the 
impression  that  he  was  making  himself  very 
agreeable,  and  if  he  had  noticed  the  slight 
look  of  annoyance  in  Miss  Jessie's  face,  would 
have  been  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it. 


V. 

• 

FROM  that  day  Bodill  found  his  position  in 
the  house  of  J.  C.  Dimpleton  &  Co.  entirely 
changed.  From  a  simple  clerk  he  became,  in 
a  sort  of  half-acknowledged  way,  the  most 
trusted  and  confidential  adviser  of  the  firm. 
Manuscripts  were  continually  submitted  for 
his  approval,  and  his  judgment  on  them,  if 
positively  expressed,  was  always  decisive.  The 
firm  never  rejected  what  he  strongly  recom 
mended,  nor  accepted  for  publication  what  he 
condemned.  In  the  case  of  two  or  three  ven 
turesome  undertakings  which  Mr.  Dimpleton 
would  not  have  touched  if  Mr.  Bodill  had  not 
thrown  his  influence  in  their  favor,  the  firm 
had  an  opportunity  to  submit  his  intelligence 
and  his  commercial  sagacity  to  the  crucial  test ; 
and  as  both  prosperity  and  an  increase  of  dig 
nity  resulted  from  the  venture,  it  seemed 
obvious  to  the  chief  of  the  house  that  Mr.  Bo 
dill  had  now  fairly  earned  his  title  to  partner- 

45 


46  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

ship  in  the  firm.  The  offer  was  accordingly 
made  on  very  favorable  conditions,  and,  after 
some  hesitation  on  Bodill's  part,  accepted. 
The  thought  had  sometimes  occurred  to  him 
that  it  might  be  Miss  Jessie's  influence,  rather 
than  his  own  merits,  which  had  so  rapidly  ad 
vanced  his  fortunes,  and  he  was  too  proud  to 
wish  to  be  indebted  to  any  one  for  so  substan 
tial  a  favor.  He  concluded,  however,  after 
much  meditation,  that  all  Miss  Jessie  had 
done  was  to  furnish  the  opportunity,  which  he 
had  himself  improved. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  he  was  all  this  time 
a  constant  visitor  at  Mr.  Dimpleton's  house. 
He  had  completely  captivated  Mrs.  Dimpleton, 
who  was  less  languid  and  more  confidential 
with  him  than  with  any  one  else.  He  discov 
ered,  to  his  great  amusement,  that  this  inno 
cent  little  lady  had  a  decided  taste  for  wicked 
French  novels,  which  she  read  without  the 
faintest  suspicion  of  their  impropriety.  He 
half  divined  that  she  was  a  little  bit  obtuse, 
but  he  would  not  have  thought  it  possible,  if 
his  own  ears  had  not  convinced  him,  that  any 


QU::EN  TITANIA.  47 

one  could  read  the  books  she  read  without  sup 
plying  what  was  left  unexpressed  in  the  text,  or 
comprehending  a  single  one  of  the  veiled  allu 
sions.  He  also  discovered  (what  was  still  more 
amusing)  that  the  daughter  was,  in  a  measure, 
the  guardian  of  her  mother's  morality;  and, 
indeed,  Mrs.  Dirnpleton  made  no  secret  of  the 
fact  that  Miss  Jessie  hid  away  all  the  novels 
which  were  procured  without  her  permission, 
or  read  them  herself  before  allowing  her 
mother  to  see  them.  • 

"She  is  such  a  queer  child,"  said  Mrs.  Dim- 
pleton,  taking  it  always  for  granted  that  her 
listener  was  no  less  interested  in  this  inex 
haustible  theme  than  she  was  herself.  "  Now, 
would  you  believe  it,  Mr.  Bodill,  when  she  was 
a  little  girl  of  six  she  crept  under  the  bed  one 
day,  and  lay  there  crying  because  she  was  not  a 
boy  ?  And  when  she  was  only,  three  years  old, 
she  said  the  cutest  things  which  ever  I  did 
hear.  She  had  come  in  in  her  little  night-gown 
to  kiss  me  and  her  father  and  her  uncle  good 
night,  and  when  she  had  gone  the  round  once, 
she  insisted  upon  '  tissing  papa  adain,'  and  then 


48  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

mamma  once  more,  until  I  was  afraid  she  was 
catching  cold,  and  carried  her  off  by  main 
force  to  her  nursery.  Then  I  made  her  kneel 
down  beside  her  crib  to  say  her  prayers.  But 
the  little  midget  was  in  a  contrary  mood,  and 
refused  to  utter  a  word.  She  was  so  stubborn 
that  I  knew  I  should  have  to  give  in.  So  I  told 
her  just  to  ask  God  to  make  Jessie  a  better 
little  girl,  and  she  might  go  to  bed.  And  what 
do  you  think  she  did  ?  Down  she  went  on  her 
knees  and  prayed  that  Dod  would  make  mamma 
a  better  little  mamma.  Now,  wasn't  that  bright 
in  a  child  of  three?  And  I  assure  you  she 
wasn't  ten  years  old  before  she  began  to  correct 
my  pronunciation  and  to  look  after  my  clothes, 
as  if  she  had  been  my  mother  and  not  my 
child." 

It  was  chiefly  his  pleasant  laugh,  his  un 
obtrusive  politeness,  and,  above  all,  his  talents 
as  a  listener,  which  secured  Quintus  Mrs.  Dim- 
pleton's  favor.  To  gain  the  approval  of  the 
daughter,  more  pronounced  qualities  were  re 
quired.  Until  she  made  his  acquaintance,  Miss 
Jessie  had  had  no  very  high  regard  for  men. 


QTJSEN  TITANIA.  49 

Women  were  in  all  respects  so  much  more 
adorable  than  men :  they  were  attuned  to  a 
finer  key.  In  accordance  with  this  theory, 
Miss  Jessie  spent  the  first  twenty-two  years 
of  her  life  in  falling  in  love  with  women,  and 
mostly  with  those  whose  attractions,  to  the 
coarse  masculine  vision,  were  imperceptible. 
A  man,  she  had  hitherto  maintained,  was  only 
to  be  tolerated  when  he  was  instructive,  and 
she  had  therefore  selected  her  male  acquaint 
ance  with  sole  reference  to  her  own  mental 
improvement.  Quintus,  too,  she  had  sought 
on  the  same  principle,  because  she  desired  to 
profit  by  his  knowledge  of  Greek.  And  in  this 
she  was  not  disappointed.  The  Norseman,  to 
whom  this  opportunity  of  refreshing  the  de 
lightful  impressions  of  his  college  days  was 
very  welcome,  readily  consented  to  a  course  of 
reading  in  Homer,  and,  from  that  time  forth, 
spent  every  Thursday  evening  with  Miss  Dim 
ple  ton  in  Homeric  discussion.  Jessie  began 
to  reflect  that  a  man  was,  after  all,  not  such  an 
objectionable  phenomenon  as  she  had  imagined. 

She  had  never,  even  with  her  most  adorable 
4 


50  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

female  friends,  had  such  a  delicious  sense  of 
feeling  herself  completely  understood.  When 
Quintus  recounted,  with  much  delicacy  of  per 
ception,  the  characteristics  of  the  Greek  civili 
zation,  or  pointed  to  the  occult  and  elusive  beau 
ties  of  the  text,  she  could  not  quite  suppress  the 
thought  that  the  daily  companionship  of  such 
a  man  through  a  long  united  life  was  the  very 
ideal  of  happiness  of  which  she  had  dreamed. 

When  Quintus  returned  home  about  mid 
night  from  these  Homeric  diversions,  he  al 
ways  found  Tita  cuddled  up  in  a  chair,  wide 
awake  and  excited.  She  was  now  sixteen  years 
old,  and  had  a  room  of  her  own  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hall,  but  she  yet  persisted  in  her 
childish  habits,  and  refused  to  go  to  sleep 
without  her  good-night  kiss.  Quintus  once,  as 
a  joke,  sent  her  one  in  an  envelope,  before  de 
parting  for  Madison  Avenue,  and  told  her  to 
go  to  bed  like  a  sensible  little  girl ;  but  when, 
on  reaching  home,  he  paused  at  her  door  to 
listen,  he  heard  a  sound  of  sobbing  within.  He 
was  for  a  moment  puzzled;  then  he  knocked, 
but  received  no  answer. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  51 

"  Good-night,  Tita  dear,"  he  said ;  "  am  I 
not  to  have  my  good-night  kiss  ?  " 

The  weeping  ceased  immediately  within,  and 
Tita's  voice,  with  a  little  unnatural  tremor  in 
it,  answered : 

"  You  will  find  it  on  your  writing-desk,  in 
closed  in  an  envelope." 

"  She  is  a  child  yet,  God  bless  her,"  mur 
mured  Quintus,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  he 
entered  his  study,  and  with  a  meditative  smile 
opened  Tita's  note  with  the  kiss  duly  inclosed. 
For  better  preservation,  it  was  wrapped  in  red 
tissue-paper.  The  note  read  as  follows : 

1 '  QUINTUS  BODTLL,  Esq. : 

"  DEAR  SIR  : — Inclosed  please  find  a  good-night  kiss  from 
the  undersigned. 

"Yours  truly, 

"T.  HULBERT." 

That  "  T.  Hulbert  "  was  delicious.  Quintus 
flung  himself  back  in  his  chair,  pressed  the 
dear  little  note  to  his  lips,  and  sat  for  half  an 
hour  smiling  the  kind  of  smile  which  is  not 
irreconcilable  with  tear-suffused  eyes.  Tita's 
helpless  and  pathetic  indignation  reminded 


52  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

him  of  the  wrath  of  a  canary-bird,  which  ruffles 
up  its  feathers  and  pecks  away  fearlessly  at 
your  fingers,  imagining  all  the  while  that  it  is 
inflicting  a  dreadful  amount  of  damage.  And 
yet  the  comparison,  in  the  next  moment,  struck 
him  as  ungenerous.  Tita's  feelings,  whether 
they  were  wise  or  foolish,  were  certainly  a 
matter  of  great  concern  to  him,  and  it  was  his 
duty  to  exert  himself  to  find  out  the  cause 
even  of  her  strange  caprices.  That  she,  who 
knew  him  so  well,  should  take  offence  at  an 
innocent  joke,  seemed  wholly  incomprehen 
sible.  That  she  objected  to  his  Homeric  even 
ings,  and  was  possibly  jealous  of  Miss  Dimple- 
ton,  whose  praises  he  had  loudly  spoken  during 
all  the  winter,  was  a  thought  which  did  not 
even  occur  to  him.  For  had  she  not,  on  a  hun 
dred  other  occasions,  urged  him  to  go  to  thea 
tres  and  clubs,  and  to  call  on  friends,  alleging 
always  that  she  was  not  at  all  lonely,  but  could 
spend  her  evenings  delightfully  with  her  books? 
Had  she  not  always  been  the  apple  of  his  eye, 
and  was  it  possible  that  any  one  could  ever 
occupy  her  place  in  his  affection?  Ah,  the 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  53 

query  was  absurd.  There  was  no  place  in  his 
heart  for  any  one  but  her.  And  yet  the  pos 
sibility  of  his  marrying  Miss  Dimpleton  had 
frequently  been  contemplated,  and  how  could 
he,  as  an  honorable  man,  marry  her  without 
giving  her  a  place  at  Tita's  side  in  his  heart  ? 
Somehow  Miss  Dimpleton,  with  her  clear, 
handsome  face,  and  her  bright  eyes  beaming 
with  intellectual  enthusiasm,  and  the  sweet, 
golden-haired  Tita,  with  her  vehement  affec 
tion  and  her  naughty  pout,  made  such  a  queer 
contrast  that  he  could  not  think  of  both  in 
harmonious  juxtaposition  as  members  of  the 
same  household.  Here  was  a  problem  which 
would  have  puzzled  the  seven  sages,  provided 
the  seven  sages  ever  were  in  love  and  were  in 
clined  to  bestow  their  affections  in  equal  divis 
ions  upon  equally  charming  women.  Quintus, 
feeling  his  utter  inability  to  cope  with  so  large 
a  question,  resolved  to  temporize,  and  to  allow 
circumstances  as  wide  a  scope  as  possible  in 
shaping  his  destiny. 


YI. 


IN  spite  of  his  liberal  politics,  Quintus  was, 
like  most  Norsemen,  a  creature  of  habit.  Al 
though  his  income  and  position  would  long  ago 
have  warranted  him  in  removing  to  a  more 
fashionable  locality,  he  postponed  the  evil  day 
from  year  to  year,  always  arguing  that,  until 
the  time  came  for  bringing  Tita  out  in  society, 
there  was  no  cause  for  haste.  He  had  reared 
her  tenderly,  guarding  her  from  all  evil  in 
fluences,  and  he  dreaded  the  day  when  she 
should  pass  beyond  his  control.  For  ten  years 
he  had  devoted  nearly  every  evening  of  his  life 
to  her  education,  and  had  seen  with  delight 
that  his  approbation  was  dear  to  her,  and  his 
praise  the  highest  reward  of  effort.  Beside 
the  Hansons  and  the  Norse  families  who 
visited  there,  she  knew  but  few,  and  readily 
perceiving  Quintus' s  superiority  to  those,  she 
came  to  look  upon  him  as  the  ideal  of  human 
perfection.  She  would  not  tolerate  even  an 
54 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  55 

implied  criticism  of  liis  appearance  or  char 
acter,  and  Mrs.  Hanson  incurred  her  lasting 
displeasure  by  remarking  that  he  was  greatly 
to  blaine  for  keeping  her  so  close,  and  giving 
her  so  little  pleasure.  This  very  thought,  how 
ever,  had  occurred  to  Bodill,  too,  one  morning 
as  he  was  crossing  the  ferry,  and  he  marvelled 
at  his  own  stupidity  in  not  having  thought  of 
it  before.  He  resolved  on  the  spot  to  procure 
Tita  a  fitting  toilet  for  the  theatre,  and  to  take 
her  as  often  as  he  could  spare  an  evening  to 
accompany  her.  Perhaps  she  might  also  like 
to  drive  in  the  Park ;  and  if  so,  there  was  no 
reason  why  she  should  not,  when  he  was  not 
required  at  the  office.  Beally,  he  had  been 
culpably  thoughtless. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  this  resolution 
was  taken,  that  Tita,  leaning  on  Quintus's  arm, 
entered  Booth's  Theatre,  where  Kignold  was 
at  that  time  playing  "  Henry  V."  Her  pro 
tector,  who  was  as  ignorant  as  a  babe  as  to  the 
effect  of  millinery  upon  the  female  character, 
was  in  a  state  of  abject  admiration  and  aston 
ishment.  He  had  always  known  that  Tita  was 


56  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

beautiful,  but  he  had  never  known  that  she 
was  so  beautiful.  Like  the  peasant  in  the 
fairy  tale,  he  had  unwittingly  been  the  foster- 
father  of  a  princess.  Tita  discovered  that 
night  (what  she  had  never  been  aware  of  be 
fore)  that  she  possessed  a  rare  talent — the  tal 
ent  for  luxury.  Poor  Quintus,  who  was  trem 
bling  lest  he  should  step  on  something,  or  tear 
something,  or  in  any  way  damage  the  elaborate 
effect,  blushed  with  suppressed  agitation,  and 
vaguely  wondered  that  the  whole  audience  did 
not  rise  to  its  feet  to  contemplate  Tita's  mag 
nificence.  But,  as  far  as  he  could  observe,  there 
was  no  one  who  was  abnormally  excited.  He 
was,  however,  too  absorbed  in  Tita  to  notice 
immediately  two  ladies  in  a  box,  not  far  away, 
both  of  whom  had  their  opera-glasses  levelled 
toward  where  he  was  sitting.  Presently  he 
became  aware  that  some  one  was  bowing  to 
him,  and  while  returning  the  salutation,  he 
discovered  that  it  was  Miss  Dimpleton  and  her 
mother.  Then  the  thought  flashed  through 
his  brain  that,  although  he  had  been  intimately 
acquainted  with  Miss  Dimpleton  for  more  than 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  57 

a  year,  he  had  never  mentioned  Tita's  name  to 
her.  He  had  at  first  been  restrained  by  a  fear 
that  she  would  look  upon  his  adoption  of  this 
homeless  waif  as  a  quixotic  and  ridiculous  act, 
and  he  knew  that  he  had  no  tenderer  spot  in 
his  heart,  or  one  capable  of  being  more  cruelly 
wounded.  Miss  Dimple  ton  had  in  the  first 
period  of  their  acquaintance  appeared  to  him 
as  the  personification  of  pure  reason,  and  the 
apprehension  seemed  by  no  means  ill-grounded 
that  she  might  feel  a  pitying  superiority  to  a 
man  who  was  capable,  on  the  spur  of  the  mo 
ment,  of  performing  an  irrationally  generous 
deed.  When  he  had  once  established  himself 
in  her  friendship,  he  discovered  that  he  had 
done  her  injustice ;  but  the  very  fact  that  he 
had  delayed  the  revelation  so  long  was  sure  to 
throw  a  false  light  upon  it,  and  even  arouse 
suspicion.  With  every  month  that  passed,  the 
original  mistake  became  more  difficult  to 
remedy,  and  Bodill  became  conscious  of  a 
positive  guilt  whenever  (as  had  often  happened 
before  the  incident  with  the  imprisoned  kiss) 
his  little  girl  came  running  toward  him,  greet- 


58  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

ing    him   with   outstretched   arms   and  over 
whelming  him  with  her  vehement  caresses. 

He  moved  a  little  uneasily  in  his  seat  as, 
even  after  the  curtain  had  risen,  he  became 
conscious  of  Miss  Dimpleton's  continued 
scrutiny.  Tita  apparently  aroused  her  curi 
osity  in  an  unusual  degree.  He  began  to  im 
agine  all  the  thoughts  that  must  be  passing 
through  her  head, — her  puzzled  defence  of  his 
integrity  and  her  inability  to  harmonize  his 
various  statements  about  his  having  no  female 
acquaintances,  except  herself,  outside  of  his 
home,  with  the  presence  of  this  striking  young 
lady  at  his  side.  The  gorgeous  pageants  on 
the  stage  followed  in  quick  succession,  but  his 
imagination  went  on  an  independent  journey 
of  exploration  and  conjecture  ;  and  when  the 
curtain  rolled  down  over  the  last  scene,  he 
could  hardly  remember  a  single  phrase  or  in 
cident.  Tita,  on  the  other  hand,  had  been 
immensely  entertained.  She  acted  the  woo 
ing  scene  in  Quintus's  study  after  they  got 
home,  and  talked  English  with  a  French  ac 
cent,  a  la  Princess  Catherine,  for  a  week  after. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  59 

Before  they  retired  she  curled  up  in  her  chair 
and  meditated,  while  Quintus  smoked  his  ci 
gar.  All  of  a  sudden  she  looked  up  and  sur 
prised  him  with  this  question,  uttered  in  a 
tone  of  vexed  impatience  : 

"Why  do  people  marry,  Quint?" 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  he  answered,  slowly,  puff 
ing  a  ring  of  smoke  toward  the  ceiling,  "  I 
suppose  it  is  because  they  would  be  lonely  if 
they  lived  apart." 

"  But  you  and  I  are  not  lonely,  and  yet  we 
are  not  married." 

"  That  is  because  you  and  I  are  so  fond  of 
each  other  that  we  don't  want  to  run  away 
from  each  other,  even  if  we  are  not  married," 
he  answered,  laughing. 

"  Then  marriage,"  she  went  on,  with  an  air 
of  grappling  earnestly  with  the  question,  "  is 
invented  to  keep  people  together  who  would 
like  to  run  away  from  each  other." 

"  Not  exactly  that,  darling,"  he  said,  becom 
ing  suddenly  serious,  "  although  that  is  unde 
niably  an  office  which  marriage  is  frequently 
made  to  perform." 


60  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  meant  for,  then,  Quint  ?  " 

"  It  is  intended  to  bind  people  more  closely 
together  who  love  each  other  dearly." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  and  I  marry,  Quint  ? 
"We  love  each  other  dearly." 

She  had  come  close  up  to  him,  and  put  her 
arms  coaxingly  about  his  neck,  as  if  she  were 
begging  him  for  a  new  dress  or  bonnet. 

"That  is  a  thing  which  you  don't  under 
stand  yet,  my  sweet  child,"  he  replied,  a  lit 
tle  tremulously  (for  somehow  the  question, 
uttered  so  innocently,  touched  him  deeply) ; 
"  but  you  will  know  some  day,  when  you  are 
older." 

"  Yes,  I  do  know,  too,"  she  cried,  with  sud 
den  vehemence.  "  It  is  because  you  love  Miss 
Dimpleton  more  than  you  do  me." 

And,  bursting  into  tears,  she  rushed  out  of 
the  room. 

The  scales  had  at  last  fallen  from  Quintus's 
eyes.  He  now  wondered  that  he  had  been  so 
persistently  blind.  Tita  was  jealous  of  Miss 
Dimpleton,  not  because  she  knew  what  love 
was,  but  from  a  childish,  unreasoning  impulse, 


QUEEN  TTTAXLA. 


as  any  pet  animal  is  jealous  if  another 
threatens  to  usurp  its  place.  The  situation 
was  getting  more  complicated  than,  in  his 
Norse  simplicity,  Quintus  had  ever  antici 
pated. 


VII. 

THE  next  day — it  was  a  gray  and  frosty 
morning  in  February — a  very  unusual  thing 
happened.  Tita  did  not  make  her  appearance 
at  breakfast,  and  replied,  to  Quintus's  anxious 
inquiries  at  her  door,  that  she  had  a  headache. 
"When  he  returned  in  the  evening,  she  had  ap 
parently  recovered  from  her  indisposition ;  but 
some  strange,  new  spirit  had  taken  possession 
of  her,  and  he  had  to  rub  his  eyes  to  be  sure 
that  he  was  not  mistaken  as  to  her  identity. 
She  received  him,  not  with  her  old  impulsive 
caresses,  but  with  a  stately  grace,  which  was  in 
keeping  with  yesterday's  train,  but  not  with 
to-day's  shorter  skirts.  She  presided  at  table 
with  a  dignity  which  was  superb,  and  to  his 
wondering  gazes  she  responded  with  politely 
questioning  smiles,  as  if  she  did  not  quite 
comprehend  the  reason  for  his  astonishment. 
Quintus  was  sincerely  puzzled,  and  would  have 
felt  justified  in  being  angry,  if  Tita  had  not 

62 


QUEEN   TITANIA.  63 

looked  so  ravishing  just  then  in  her  offended 
dignity,  with  her  beautiful,  rebellious  curls 
making  a  golden  frame  about  her  sweet,  dim 
pled  face.  Dignity  in  a  countenance  of  this 
type,  though  to  the  possessor  it  is  undoubtedly 
very  impressive,  has  rarely  been  known  to 
alarm  outsiders.  Tita,  however,  was  ignorant 
of  this  fact  of  natural  history,  and  therefore 
persisted  until  bedtime  in  her  majestic  de 
meanor,  while  Quintus  smoked  in  brooding 
discontent.  For  there  were  other  things  than 
Tita's  caprices  which  troubled  him.  The  next 
day  would  be  Thursday,  and  he  would  be 
obliged  to  meet  Miss  Dimpleton,  and  probably 
to  offer  her  an  explanation.  Then  the  fool 
ishly  guarded  secret  would  at  last  be  revealed, 
and  very  likely,  when  Tita  was  brought  out, 
Miss  Dimpleton  would  prove  herself  a  kind 
and  valuable  friend  to  her.  And  with  this 
consoling  reflection  he  hung  his  meerschaum 
(a  hollow  and  frightfully  inflated  Turk  whom 
Tita  had  named  the  Eastern  Question)  in  its 
proper  corner  on  the  wall,  and,  finding  made 
moiselle's  chair  empty,  retired  to  bed.  But 


64  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

he  scarcely  divined  what  the  morrow  had  in 
store  for  him.  And  yet  the  sun  had  a  singu 
larly  ominous  look  as  it  shone,  small  and  re 
mote,  through  the  river  fog  on  the  following 
morning.  On  reaching  the  office,  Quintus  met 
Hanson  coming  out  from  his  chief's  private 
room.  It  was  rather  unusual  for  Mr.  Dimple- 
ton  to  arrive  so  early,  and  still  more  unusual 
for  him  to  have  private  interviews  with  Han 
son.  However,  life  was  at  best  a  humdrum 
affair,  and  would  be  still  more  so  if  a  man  were 
not  at  liberty  to  do  things  which  his  neighbors 
might  regard  as  eccentric.  With  this  and 
similar  sophistries,  Quintus  strove  to  soothe 
his  troubled  spirits,  while  with  absent-minded 
haste  he  tore  open  the  envelopes  of  his  busi 
ness  correspondence,  and  with  sudden  and  un 
accountable  pauses,  as  if  he  had  lost  the 
thread  of  his  thought,  gave  directions  to  the 
clerks  who  came  to  receive  his  orders.  A  few 
moments  after  Hanson's  departure,  Mr.  Dim- 
pleton,  without  taking  the  slightest  notice  of 
Bodill  as  he  passed,  called  for  his  carriage  and 
drove  away,  and,  about  two  hours  later,  a 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  65 

messenger  boy  handed  him  a  note  from  Miss 
Jessie,  in  which  she  announced,  in  the  most 
coldly  formal  manner,  that  she  would  be 
obliged  henceforth  to  discontinue  her  Homeric 
studies,  and  that  she  would  accordingly  make 
no  further  demand  upon  his  valuable  time. 
About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  head 
of  the  firm  returned  and  sent  a  clerk  to  Quin- 
tus's  desk,  requesting  that  Mr.  Bodill  would 
favor  him  with  a  moment's  interview.  The 
door  of  the  private  office  was  carefully  locked 
when  he  had  entered,  and  Mr.  Dimpleton, 
with  an  icy  solemnity  which  seemed  to  make  a 
perceptible  change  in  the  temperature  of  the 
room,  motioned  him  to  a  chair  and  seated 
himself  on  the  lounge  opposite. 

"  I  offered  you  a  partnership  in  this  firm, 
Mr.  Bodill,"  he  began,  abruptly,  "  under  the 
impression  that  you  were  a  man  of  excellent 
habits  and  character — a  Christian  man  and 
a  man  of  honor.  This  firm,  sir,  has  always 
prided  itself  on  the  blameless  Christian  char 
acter  of  its  members.  Now,  I  am  well  aware 
that,  from  the  Old- World  point  of  view,  the 


66  QUEEN  TITAOTA. 

offence  of  which  you  have  been  guilty  is  a 
venial  one,  and  would  there  probably  not  in 
terfere  seriously  with  your  social  standing " 

"And  perhaps,  sir/'  interrupted  Quintus, 
springing  to  his  feet,  while  his  face  burned 
with  indignation,  "  you  will  have  the  kindness 
to  inform  me  of  what  offence  I  have  been 
guilty  ?  " 

"  I  had  a  higher  respect  for  you  than  that, 
Mr.  Bodill,"  retorted  Mr.  Dimpleton,  in  a 
slightly  impatient  tone,  as  if  to  say  that  it  was 
of  no  use  to  contest  his  facts,  which  were  be 
yond  dispute.  "  Then  you  plead  ignorance  of 
your  guilt,  do  you  ?  Well,  sir,  to  a  gentleman 
of  your  principles,  very  likely,  it  does  not  as 
sume  the  character  of  guilt  But  since  you  in 
sist  upon  it,  I  have  no  objection  to  informing 
you  that  I  refer  to  the  fact  that,  although  un 
married,  you  have  a  daughter,  as  I  am  told, 
nearly  sixteen  years  old.  And  knowing  well 
how  my  family  and  I  would  look  upon  this 
circumstance,  you  have  carefully  guarded  your 
tongue,  and  never  in  our  presence  made  the 
faintest  allusion  to  her  existence," 


QUEEN  TITAttlA.  67 

"  And  who  told  you,  sir,  that  I  have  a  daugh 
ter  ?  "  inquired  Quintus,  now  no  longer  in  an 
ger,  but  with  calm  disdain. 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  who  told  me. 
However,  if  it  can  gratify  you  to  know,  it  was 
a  man  who  has  every  means  of  knowing  your 
life,  both  previous  to  your  arrival  in  this 
country  and  after.  I  need  not  say  that  I  refer 
to  Mr.  Hanson." 

"  And  did  Mr.  Hanson  tell  you  that  Tita  was 
my  daughter?"  cried  Quintus,  opening  his 
eyes  wide  in  astonishment. 

"  He  said  he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt 
that  she  was  your  daughter,  and  that  you  had 
been  compelled  to  leave  home.  Your  father, 
he  said,  is  very  irascible, — but  it  is  needless  to 
recount  what  you  know  so  well.  Moreover, 
he  added  a  great  deal  of  corroborative  evi 
dence,  which  would  make  it  useless  for  you  to 
deny." 

"  In  that  case,  Mr.  Dimpleton,"  responded 
Quintus,  with  the  utmost  dignity,  "  I  suppose 
it  would  be  agreeable  to  you — assuredly  it 
would  to  me — if  our  business  connection  were 


68  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

dissolved,  the  sooner  the  better.  If  you  can 
take  the  word  of  a  former  groom  of  my  father's, 
who,  moreover,  offers  you  nothing  but  conjec 
tures  and  impressions,  and  refuse  even  to  hear 
my  defence,  then  my  respect  for  you  suffers  as 
severely  as  yours,  according  to  your  statement, 
has  for  me." 

"I  have  anticipated  this  proposition,"  re 
marked  the  publisher,  coolly,  "  and  here  is  my 
check  for  the  amount  which  is  due  to  you  as 
your  share  in  the  profits  of  the  business." 

Bodill,  without  even  glancing  at  the  check, 
put  it  in  his  pocket-book,  and,  bowing  stiffly, 
took  his  leave.  For  several  hours  he  sauntered 
aimlessly  up  one  street  and  down  another,  rode, 
from  sheer  weariness,  on  the  street  cars  to 
Central  Park,  and  back  again  to  the  City  Hall, 
dined  absent-mindedly  at  a  restaurant,  and 
finally,  before  the  accustomed  hour  for  his 
return  home  had  arrived,  crossed  the  ferry  to 
Jersey  City.  He  feared  to  encounter  Tita's 
questioning  eyes,  and  sincerely  hoped  that  her 
dignified  mood  of  yesterday  would  prove  some 
thing  more  than  a  fleeting  caprice,  as  in  that 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  69 

case  he  might  succeed  in  fortifying  his  heart 
against  compromising  confessions.  If  Tita 
was  stately,  he  might  be  distant,  and  they 
might  avoid  affectionate  collisions,  which  would 
inevitably  lead,  not  to  the  revelation  of  the 
truth,  for  that  would  have  been  impossible, 
but  to  much  enforced  and  ingenious  deception, 
which,  to  a  conscientious  man  like  Quintus, 
was  scarcely  less  unpleasant.  He  had  hardly 
entered  his  study,  however,  before  he  divined 
that  the  latter  alternative  would  be  presented 
to  him.  Tita,  who  was  yet  playing  the  Queen 
Titania  (as  Quintus  had  humorously  designated 
her  majestic  role),  no  sooner  discovered  the 
look  of  weariness  and  trouble  which  shim 
mered  through  the  hypocritical  cheerfulness 
of  his  face  than  she  forgot  her  studiously  pre 
pared  part,  and,  rushing  forward,  became  once 
more  the  old  vehement,  childish,  and  adorable 
Tita. 

"  Quint,  Quint,"  she  cried,  "what  have  they 
been  doing  to  you  ?  And  to-night  is  your 
Homeric  evening,  too.  And  yet  you  come 
home  so  early.  Has  Miss  Dimpleton  been  bad 


70  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

to  you,  Quint?  I  never  shall  like  her  if  she 
has." 

"  No,  child,"  he  answered,  taking  the  lovely 
face  between  his  hands  and  kissing  it.  "  I  am 
only  a  little  tired,  and  would  like  a  long,  peace 
ful  smoke." 

"But  you  can't  have  it,  Quint,"  persisted 
Tita,  giving  her  head  a  decisive  little  shake,  and 
looking,  with  her  hair  curling  rebelliously  over 
her  forehead,  like  a  determined  little  Shetland 
pony  who  is  conscious  that  its  perversity  is 
not  altogether  unbecoming.  "  Something  has 
gone  wrong  to-day,  and  you  will  have  no  peace 
until  I  know  what  it  is." 

But  Quintus  would  only  give  her  fables  for 
facts,  and  she  retired  with  the  conviction  that 
he  had  proposed  to  Miss  Dimpleton  and  had 
been  refused.  But  what  a  monster  Miss  Dim 
pleton  must  be  to  refuse  Quintus  !  In  her  in 
dignation  at  such  iniquity,  Tita  even  forgot 
to  congratulate  herself  upon  the  removal  of  a 
dangerous  rival.  She  felt  too  sad  on  Qumtus's 
account  to  be  glad  on  her  own. 


YHL 

i  DURING  the  remainder  of  February  and  all 
the  month  of  March,  Quintus  kept  up  a  hypo 
critical  show  of  activity,  always  starting  at  the 
accustomed  hour  for  the  office,  and  spending 
the  day  in  cafes  and  reading-rooms,  and  in  aim 
less  wanderings  about  the  city.  He  once  even 
fell  asleep  on  one  of  the  benches  in  the  Union 
Square  Park,  and,  on  being  awakened  by  a 
policeman,  had  much  difficulty  in  persuading 
him  that  he  was  neither  drunk  nor  a  vagrant. 
Often  he  was  seen  trudging  on  through  the  dis 
mal,  chilly  rain  which  New  York  rarely  escapes 
during  March,  having  apparently  some  serious 
purpose  in  view ;  but  being  utterly  oblivious  of 
the  state  of  his  clothes  and  the  direction  his  feet 
were  taking,  he  would  sometimes  find  himself 
in  the  most  dangerous  and  disreputable  dis 
tricts  of  the  city.  He  attracted,  however,  no 
special  attention.  His  tall  hat  looked  shabby 
and  weather-beaten,  his  coat  was  dripping  wet, 

71 


72  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

and  lie  was  shivering  from  head  to  foot — the 
normal  condition  of  the  inhabitants  of  these 
neighborhoods.  He  would  have  much  pre 
ferred  to  remain  at  home,  seated  in  his  easy- 
chair  in  his  comfortable  library;  but  in  that 
case  Tita  would  have  drawn  her  inference,  and 
an  explanation  would  have  been  inevitable. 

Tita,  in  the  meanwhile,  was  not  blind  to  the 
striking  change  in  Quintus's  appearance  and 
temperament.  She  noticed  with  increased  ap 
prehension  the  daily  deepening  of  the  lines 
about  his  mouth  and  eyes,  the  listless  stoop 
in  his  shoulders,  and  the  look  of  extreme 
weariness  in  his  whole  countenance.  She  dared 
no  longer  coax  and  question  him  in  her  playful 
manner,  for  she  suspected  that  the  cause  of  his 
grief  was  too  serious  to  be  dismissed  with  a 
playful  retort.  Moreover,  he  showed  a  dispo 
sition  to  irritability,  which,  in  so  amiable  a  man 
as  he,  was  quite  alarming;  and  Tita,  with  the 
superior  knowledge  of  her  sixteen  years,  began 
to  prescribe  for  him,  as  for  a  moral  invalid, 
substituting  cocoa  for  coffee  at  breakfast,  and 
fruit  for  pastries  at  dessert,  and  making  various 


QUEEN   TITANIA.  73 

other  dietary  changes,  in  which  Quintus,  with 
out  a  suspicion  of  their  cause,  unmurmuringly 
acquiesced.  Tita,  however,  failed  to  observe 
any  beneficial  effects  from  her  remedies,  and  as 
Quintus  continued  to  grow  thinner  and  more 
hollow-cheeked  she  grew  more  and  more 
anxious,  and  finally  resolved  upon  a  daring  en 
terprise  which  she  had  long  vaguely  meditated. 
That  Quintus  was  in  love,  there  could  be  no 
reason  to  doubt.  From  the  few  novels  she  had 
read,  she  had  learned  that  the  symptoms  of 
this  ailment  were  very  alarming  and  extraor 
dinary.  And  further,  as  Quint  knew  no  other 
ladies  than  herself  and  Miss  Dimpleton,  and 
whereas,  if  he  were  in  love  with  herself,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  told  her  so,  there  was 
no  escape  from  the  conclusion  that  he  must  be 
in  love  with  Miss  Dimpleton.  Moreover,  his 
melancholy  had  dated  from  the  evening  when 
the  Homeric  readings  had  ceased.  What  more 
probable,  then,  than  that  Miss  Dimpleton  had 
refused  him  that  very  night?  Of  course,  after 
such  an  occurrence  it  would  be  embarrassing  to 
continue  the  acquaintance.  Thus  reasoned  the 


74  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

sage  little  Tita.  And  although  in  an  obscure 
corner  of  her  heart  there  had  lurked  a  hope 
that  Quint  would  some  day  love  her  as  dearly 
as  she  loved  him,  she  was  resolved  to  be 
heroic  and  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  restore 
his  happiness.  If  Miss  Dimpleton  were  aware 
what  a  noble  fellow  Quint  was,  she  surely 
would  not  persist  in  her  refusal  to  marry  him. 
But,  of  course,  she  could  not  know ;  she  did 
not  know  him  as  well  as  Tita  did.  Therefore 
Tita  concluded  that  it  was  her  duty  to  go  to 
Miss  Dimpleton  and  enlighten  her.  She  would, 
of  course,  have  to  choose  a  morning  when 
Quint,  as  she  supposed,  would  be  at  the  office. 
In  this  adventurous  mood,  Tita  donned  her 
walking  costume  and  tripped  demurely  down 
toward  the  ferry-boat.  She  took  a  street-car 
uptown,  and  arrived  without  any  mishap  at  the 
door  of  one  of  those  great,  featureless  masses 
of  brown  stone  in  which  the  fashionable  New 
Yorker  loves  to  dwell.  She  rang  the  bell,  and 
was  promptly  admitted  by  the  colored  briga 
dier  in  blue  and  yellow,  who,  as  Tita  presently 
reflected,  had  been  gotten  up  to  match  the  fur- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  75 

niture.  She  sent  up  her  card,  upon  which  she 
had  written,  with  much  trepidation  at  her  own 
daring,  "Miss  Hulbert,"  and  in  a  few  minutes 
Miss  Dirnpleton  descended,  held  out  her  hand 
hesitatingly,  and,  with  an  interrogatory  smile 
on  her  lips,  said : 

"  Excuse  me,  but  I  do  not  remember  having 
had  the  pleasure— 

"No,  Miss  Dimpleton,"  said  Tita,  as  Miss 
Dimpleto.1  showed  no  disposition  to  continue, 
"  you  have  never  met  me  before  :  but — but — 
please  allow  me  to  sit  down  and  collect  my 
thoughts  a  little,  Miss  Dimpleton." 

She  felt  an  alarming  inclination  to  burst  into 
tears ;  she  was  puzzled  and  frightened  at  the 
rashness  of  her  undertaking.  Miss  Dimpleton 
seemed  very  formidable,  too,  with  her  clear 
gray  eyes,  and  her  smooth  hair,  and  her  rich 
and  stately  attire.  She  stood  looking  at  poor 
Tita,  as  if  she  were  deciphering  her  very  soul. 

"  Yes,  certainly,  do  sit  down,"  she  was  say 
ing,  gazing  with  sudden  intentness  at  Tita's 
card,  which  she  was  yet  holding  in  her  hand. 
"  Your  name,  it  appears,  is  Miss  Hulbert.  May 


76  QUEEN   TITANIA. 

I  ask,  were  you  not  the  lady  whom  I  saw  with 
Mr.  Bodill  in  the  theatre  about  six  or  seven 
weeks  ago?" 

"  Yes,  probably  I  was." 

"  Then  pardon  me  if  I  ask  you  embarrassing 
questions ;  but  it  is  of  some  importance  to  me 
to  know.  Ought  not  your  name  to  be  Miss 
Bodill?" 

"You  mean  that  I  ought  to  marry  Quint?" 
exclaimed  Tita,  in  hypocritical  astonishment, 
while  the  tears  trembled  through  her  wrords. 
"  Oh,  not  at  all,  I  assure  you.  Of  course,  I  love 
Quint  very  much,  because  he  is  so  good  and 
kind  and  lovely — oh,  you  don't  know  how  good 
Quint  is,  Miss  Dimpleton." 

Somehow  there  was  something  very  touch 
ing  to  her,  just  then,  in  Quint's  goodness,  and 
the  tears  refused  to  be  held  in  check  any  long 
er,  but  coursed  down  her  cheeks,  while  she  yet 
bravely  gazed  into  her  rival's  eye. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  Mr.  Bodill  is  very  good  to 
you"  replied  Miss  Dimpleton,  a  little  stiffly, 
although  she  had  to  admit  to  herself  that  the 
impulsive  and  childlike  manner  of  this  young 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  77 

girl  was  very  winning.  Evidently  Mr.  Bodill 
had  kept  her  in  ignorance  of  his  true  relation 
to  her,  and  under  such  circumstances  it  would 
hardly  be  kind  to  burden  her  with  a  knowledge 
which  would  necessarily  give  her  pain.  "  But," 
she  added,  "pardon  my  frankness — but  how 
does  Mr.  Bodill's  goodness  concern  me  ?  " 

"It  concerns  you  very  much  indeed,  Miss 
Dimpleton,  if  you  only  knew  it,"  said  Tita,  re 
solved,  however  embarrassing  it  might  be,  to 
speak  plainly.  "Quint  has  been  very  ill  of 
late,  ever  since  the  evening  when  you  gave  up 
your  Homeric  studies.  I  know  that  something 
must  then  have  happened  to  him,  although  he 
has  never  told  me  what  it  was.  Yet  I  know 
that  it  is  you  who  must  have  done  something 
to  him  that  has  wounded  him  very  deeply. 
And,  Miss  Dimpleton,  it  was  this  I  came  to 
tell  you,  that  if  there  ever  was  a  man  in  this 
world  who  is  thoroughly  noble,  from  the  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot,  that  man  is 
Quintus  Bodill.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  he 
should  care  so  much  for  your  company  that  it 
should  make  him  ill  and  wretched  not  to  see 


78  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

you.  For,  though  you  are  very  beautiful,  you 
are  not  as  beautiful  as  Quint ;  nor  are  you  so 
good  as  he  is,  since  you  like  to  wound  and 
grieve  those  who  are  fond  of  you." 

Miss  Dimpleton,  instead  of  smiling  at  this  in 
trepid  arraignment,  delivered  in  a  tear-choked 
voice,  grew  suddenly  very  serious,  and  sat  gaz 
ing  with  a  look  of  earnest  scrutiny  into  Tita's 
face. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Miss  Hulbert,"  she  said,  half 
unconsciously  seizing  Tita's  hand.  "  You  think 
I  am  cold  and  cruel,  and  that  Mr.  Bodill  is  a 
saint.  Supposing  it  was  I  who  was  cruelly 
wounded,  and  that  it  was  Mr.  Bodill  who  had 
inflicted  the  wound.  Unfortunately  I  cannot 
make  you  understand  what  I  mean.  But  when 
a  man  creates  an  ideal  of  purity  and  nobleness 
in  a  woman's  mind,  and  then  carefully  conceals 
the  fact  that  he  is  himself  far  from  worship 
ping  at  the  altar  which  he  erects  for  her ;  then 
—then" — Miss  Dimpleton  groped  for  a  mo 
ment  for  the  proper  phrase — "  there  is  no  for 
giveness  for  that  man — and  in  all  likelihood  he 
would  not  even  care  to  be  forgiven.  Suppose, 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  79 

too,  that  a  woman  had  held  aloof  from  soci 
ety,  and  refused  to  squander  her  strength  and 
blunt  her  sensibilities  in  fashionable  dissipa 
tions  ;  suppose  she  had  hungered  for  a  life  of 
nobler  aims  and  loftier  interests,  and  fancied 
that  this  man  held  the  key  to  the  Eden  she 
had  dreamed  of,  and  imagine  then  her  indigna 
tion  when  she  discovered  that  he,  too,  had 
soiled  his  hands  in  the  moral  filth  in  which  the 
baser  crowd  of  humanity  grovel.  Can  you, 
with  your  sixteen  years,  imagine  the  bitterness 
which  such  an  experience  leaves  behind  it,  and 
the  dreariness  and  hopelessness  which  must 
follow?" 

Tita,  who,  without  precisely  understanding 
the  nature  of  Miss  Dimpleton's  grievance, 
vaguely  felt  that  Quintus's  honor  was  being 
assailed,  bristled  all  over  with  eagerness  to 
rush  to  his  defence.  Her  interlocutor,  how 
ever,  although  she  observed  her  impatience, 
was  resolved  to  finish  her  indictment — not  be 
cause  she  would  condescend  to  demand  sym 
pathy,  but  merely  to  give  vent  to  the  righteous 
wrath  and  scorn  which  had  accumulated  with- 


80  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

in  her.  Now,  at  last,  came  Tita's  chance  to 
retort. 

"Well,  madam,"  she  broke  forth,  forgetting 
entirely  her  benevolent  purposes,"  if  you  mean 
to  insinuate  that  Quintus  Bodill  is  the  kind  of 
man  you  have  just  been  describing, — I  under 
stand  what  you  mean,  and  you  needn't  look 
pityingly  at  me, — then  I  can  only  say  that — 
that  you  don't  know  him,  and  that  you  are  un 
worthy  of  the  honor  of  knowing  him." 

And,  with  a  disdainful  bow,  Tita  swept  out 
of  the  room,  whereupon  the  formidable  blue- 
and-yellow  negro  opened  the  door.  As  she 
descended  the  steps,  she  met  an  elderly  gen 
tleman,  who  had  just  emerged  from  his  coupe, 
and  was  running  up  the  steps  with  an  eager 
ness  quite  out  of  keeping  with  his  years.  She 
could  not  look  him  in  the  face  for  her  tears  ; 
but  as  she  heard  his  latch-key  in  the  doer, 
Tita  sagely  concluded  that  it  must  be  Mr. 
Dimpleton. 


IX. 


"  TELL  Miss  Jessie  I  want  to  see  her,  as 
soon  as  possible,"  said  Mr.  Dimple  ton  to  the 
servant. 

"  Miss  Dimpleton  is  in  the  pa'lo',  sah,"  was 
the  reply. 

The  publisher,  with  a  look  of  suppressed 
excitement,  entered  the  room,  and,  without 
any  preliminary,  handed  his  daughter  an 
opened  letter.  Miss  Jessie,  who  was  too  ab 
sorbed  with  her  own  reflections  to  notice  her 
father's  manner,  received  the  letter  rather  list 
lessly,  and,  supposing  it  to  be  an  invitation, 
put  it  into  her  pocket. 

"  Why,  my  dear,  I  wish  you  to  read  it  at 
once,"  said  he ;  "  it  is  a  matter  of  great  im 
portance." 

She  sank  into  an  easy-chair,  unfolded  the 
paper,  and  had  hardly  read  ten  words,  when 
she  started  up  again,  and  stared  hard  at  her 
father. 

6  81 


82  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

"  Where,  where  did  this "  she  cried. 

"  Bead  it,  read  it,"  he  demanded,  "  and  then 
tell  me  what  we  ought  to  do.  Of  course  we 
owe  him  reparation." 

The  letter  read  as  follows  : 

"Messrs.  J.  C.  DIMPLETON  &  Co. 

"GENTLEMEN: — We  have  been  informed  that  you  have  in 
your  employ  a  gentleman,  about  thirty-two  years  of  age, 
named  Quintus  Bodill.  A  young  man  of  that  name  crossed  in 
one  of  our  steamers  about  twelve  years  ago,  and  made  himself 
the  voluntary  guardian  of  a  little  girl,  then  four  years  old, 
whose  mother  had  died  during  the  voyage.  We  made  care 
ful  inquiries  at  the  time,  in  the  hope  of  discovering  some 
friend  or  relative  of  the  deceased,  but  all  our  efforts  were  in 
vain.  As  in  all  probability  Mr.  Bodill  would  have  informed 
us  of  the  child's  death,  and  we  have  received  no  intelligence 
to  that  effect,  we  conclude  that  she  must  be  alive,  and  yet 
under  Mr.  Bodill's  protection. 

"The  occasion  for  our  troubling  you  with  this  affair  is 
the  fact  that  a  sum  of  $455  was  collected  among  the  passen 
gers  for  the  benefit  of  the  orphaned  girl,  which  sum  was  de 
posited  with  us,  and  invested  in  United  States  six  per  cent, 
bonds.  Capital  and  interest  are  at  Mr.  Bodill's  disposal 
whenever  he  will  present  himself,  with  proper  identification, 
at  our  office.  A  messenger,  whom  we  sent  to  your  place  of 
business  to  inquire  for  him,  failed  to  find  him,  and  we 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  83 

therefore  beg  of  you  to  have  the  kindness  to  communicate  to 
him  the  contents  of  this  letter.  We  have  the  honor  to  re 
main,  gentlemen, 

"Very  respectfully  yours, 

"BALLARD,  RUSH  &  Co., 

"Agents  for Transatlantic  Steamship  Co." 

"If  he  had  only  not  been  so  deucedly 
proud,"  said  Mr.  Dimpleton,  in  a  dispirited 
sort  of  fashion — "  if  he  had  only  deigned  to 
offer  me  an  explanation,  all  .this  trouble  might 
have  been  avoided." 

"How  could  he,  father?"  retorted  Miss 
Jessie,  passionately,  letting  the  letter  drop  into 
her  lap.  "After  what  you  said  to  him,  there 
was  but  one  thing  for  a  man  of  honor  to  do, 
and  that  was  exactly  what  he  did." 

"  And  who  was  it  that  prompted  me  to  act 
so  rashly  as  I  did  on  such  very  slight  prem 
ises  ?  "  asked  he,  with  a  remote  approach  to 
indignation. 

"  It  was  I,  father,  and  I  ought  to  suffer  for 
it.  But  oh,  if  I  had  only  known  five  minutes 
ago  what  I  know  now,  I  might,  at  all  events, 
have  avoided  adding  insult  to  injury !  The 


84  QUEEN   TITANIA. 

young  lady  you  met  on  the  steps  was  the  or 
phan  referred  to  in  this  letter,  and  she  came, 
evidently  without  his  knowledge,  to  upbraid 
me,  as  I  deserve  to  be  upbraided,  for  my  hasty 
condemnation,  and  for  my  whole  ignoble  con 
duct  toward  him." 

Miss  Jessie  was  in  the  contrite  mood  when 
there  was  a  satisfaction  in  feeling  the  cut  of 
the  lash,  and  she  would  have  bowed  her  head 
humbly  under  the  application  of  the  severest 
adjectives.  And  yet,  through  all  this  luxurious 
humility,  there  thrilled  a  sense  of  triumph  at 
the  thought  that  she  had,  after  all,  not  bestow 
ed  her  admiration,  and  perhaps  something  even 
more  precious,  upon  one  who  was  unworthy. 
She  need  no  longer  blush  at  her  own  want  of 
insight  and  discrimination,  and  she  need  no 
longer  writhe  under  the  degradation  of  having 
opened  the  inner  chambers  of  her  soul  to  pro 
fane  eyes.  It  will  be  seen  that  she  was  occu 
pied  chiefly  with  herself.  She  felt  vaguely 
sorry  for  the  suffering  she  had  caused  him,  but 
her  uppermost  feeling  was  joy  at  being  re 
habilitated  in  her  own  sight.  There  was  some 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  85 

satisfaction,  however,  in  knowing  that  Bodill 
had  taken  her  displeasure  to  heart,  although, 
of  course,  she  could  not  ascertain  how  much  of 
his  wretchedness  was  due  to  the  loss  of  his 
position. 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  said  her  father,  who  was 
ever  ready  to  do  his  daughter's  bidding,  "  what 
do  you  propose  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  Order  the  carriage  for  me  at  four,  please," 
she  answered,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
"  and  we  will  both  make  Mr.  Bodill  a  call  and 
offer  him  our  apologies.  I  believe  he  lives 
somewhere  on  the  Jersey  side?" 

"Yes,  we  have  his  address  at  the  office." 


X. 


TITA  glanced  with  some  uneasiness  toward 
the  door,  and  hastily  secreted  about  a  square 
foot  of  embroidery  in  a  drawer,  the  key  of 
which  she  put,  with  a  triumphant  little  nod, 
into  her  pocket.  She  was  making  Quintus  an 
elaborate  Turkish  smoking-cap,  to  go  with  his 
dressing-gown  and  slippers,  so  that,  while  in 
dulging  in  the  oriental  luxury  of  smoking,  he 
might  be  in  character,  as  it  were — entirely  a 
la  Turque.  But  it  was,  of  course,  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  Quint  should  have  no  suspi 
cion  of  her  deep  design  until  April  5th,  when 
he  would  be  thirty-two  years  old.  On  his 
birthday  she  was,  moreover,  in  the  habit  of 
making  him  presents  of  all  the  things  which 
she  conceived  that  he  was  in  need  of ;  and  the 
bills  were,  of  course,  duly  presented,  one  by 
one,  with  many  days'  interval,  at  times  when 
he  was  incapable  of  being  anything  but  ami 
able. 

86 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  87 

Hearing  heavy  footsteps,  Tita  imagined  that 
it  was  Quint,  who  was  returning  from  the  office 
a  little  earlier  than  usual.  Presently  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door,  accompanied  by  an 
ominous  rustle  of  silk.  Tita,  with  her  heart 
in  her  throat,  seized  hold  of  the  knob,  and, 
without  a  thought  of  her  toilet,  turned  it.  It 
had  never  yet  happened  that  any  one  had  call 
ed  upon  her,  and  she  naturally  supposed  that 
some  one  was  making  a  mistake.  When  she 
beheld  the  stately  forms  of  Miss  Dimpleton 
and  her  father,  she  cast  an  anxious  glance 
about  the  room  (which,  very  likely,  to  feminine 
eyes,  presented  a  disorderly  appearance),  then 
made  a  distant  and  dignified  bow,  and  request 
ed  the  visitors  to  be  seated. 

"  The  weather  has  been  extremely  capricious 
of  late,"  remarked  Mr.  Dimpleton,  gazing  with 
a  profound  interest  at  the  cornice  of  one  of  the 
tall  book-cases  which  covered  two  walls  of  the 
room. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  it  has,"  said  Tita,  blushing 
to  the  edge  of  her  hair,  and  feeling  strangely 
agitated.  She  could  not  get  rid  of  the  impres- 


88  QUEEN  TTTANIA. 

sion  that  Mr.  and  Miss  Dimpleton  had  come 
here  on  some  errand  of  revenge,  possibly  to 
punish  her  for  her  insolence  during  the  morn 
ing.  In  the  next  moment,  however,  she  felt 
ashamed  of  these  suspicions,  and  with  an  ener 
getic  effort  set  herself  to  the  task  of  entertain 
ing  her  guests.  But  unhappily  she  feared  that 
she  knew  but  little  of  social  etiquette,  and  she 
had  never  felt  so  completely  at  sea  with  any 
one  as  with  these  two  grave  and  apparently 
critical  strangers. 

"  Mr.  Bodill  seems  to  be  a  good  deal  of  a 
scholar,"  began  Mr.  Dimpleton  again,  just  as 
Tita  was  meditating  her  first  tentative  remark. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  hastened  to  answer;  "he 
takes  great  pleasure  in  his  books,  and  he  has 
some  very  rare  ones,  too.  I  am  so  sorry  that 
he  has  not  yet  returned  from  the  office,  but  he 
rarely  returns  until  half-past  five  or  six." 

"The  office?"  repeated  Mr.  Dimpleton,  in  an 
interrogatory  tone.  "  Is  Mr.  Bodill  in  business 

•       O  " 

again : 

"  He  has  never  been  out  of  business,  as  far 
as  I  know,"  retorted  Tita;  then,  with  a  sudden 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  89 

clearance  of  vision,  and  anxiety  in  her  voice, 
she  added :  "  I  supposed  he  was  in  business 
•with  you,  sir.  At  all  events,  I  never  heard  that 
he  had  separated  from  you." 

"We — we  are  no  longer  together,"  replied 
Mr.  Dimpleton,  in  a  good  deal  of  confusion. 
"  We  separated  about  six  weeks  ago." 

"  Six  weeks  ago ! "  exclaimed  Tita ;  "  and  he 
has  been  going  to  the  office  every  morning, 
and  has  returned  every  night  at  the  usual 
hour." 

"He  has  not  been  with  me,  I  can  assure 
you,"  asserted  the  publisher,  severely.  He  was 
not  finely  enough  organized  to  divine  the  mo 
tive  for  such  a  prolonged  deception,  and  was 
inclined  to  judge  Bodill  by  his  own  standard. 

"  Mr.  Bodill  evidently  wished  to  spare  you 
the  pain  of  knowing  that  he  was  out  of  em 
ployment,"  said  his  daughter,  whom  Tita's 
mournful  face  had  moved  to  compassion.  Tita 
was  having  the  most  horrible  compunctions  in 
regard  to  a  blue  parasol  with  a  lizard  carved 
on  its  ivory  handle  ;  she  had  bought  it  with 
Quint's  permission,  but  she  well  remembered 


90  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

the  expression  of  his  face  when  she  told  him 
the  price. 

Miss  Dimpleton,  too,  by  the  way,  had  been 
indulging  a  remorseful  reverie,  and  had,  like 
Tita,  arrived  at  the  most  uncomplimentary 
conclusions  regarding  herself.  This  plainly 
furnished  room,  with  the  long,  serious  rows  of 
books  along  the  walls,  and  the  great,  well-worn 
dictionaries  on  the  revolving  shelves  at  the 
writing-desk,  was  an  eloquent  commentary  on 
the  life  of  the  man  whom  she  had  misjudged. 
She  felt  here  the  spirit  of  the  man,  and  she  felt 
that  it  was  a  noble  spirit.  Her  own  splendid 
upholstery,  upon  which  she  had  spent  so  much 
time  and  study,  was,  for  the  moment,  almost 
repugnant  to  her,  and  she  would  willingly  (on 
a  certain  condition)  have  exchanged  her  luxury 
and  ease  for  the  moderate  prosperity  and 
scholarly  interests  to  which  these  books  and 
engravings  bore  witness.  Mr.  Bodill's  tender 
regard  for  the  feelings  of  his  ward  (not  to 
speak  of  Tita's  extravagant  eulogies)  also  gave 
her  a  new  clue  to  his  character,  and  as  the 
picture  grew  toward  completeness  at  every 


QUEEN  TTTANA.  91 

fresh  touch  which  her  memory  furnished,  her 
own  conduct  appeared  to  grow  blacker  in  pro 
portion  as  his  grew  more  noble. 

While  the  two  ladies  were  thus  tormenting 
themselves,  and  while  Mr.  Dimpleton  was  ex 
amining  Webster's  Unabridged,  which  was 
lying  open  on  the  writing-desk,  with  an  air  of 
curious  interest,  as  if  it  were  the  latest  literary 
novelty,  footsteps  were  heard  in  the  hall,  and 
Bodill  entered.  He  looked  worn  and  weary  ; 
the  lines  of  his  face  indicated  suffering ;  and 
the  loving  eyes  of  Tita  read  at  once  in  these 
lines  the  painful  history  of  his  generous  de 
ception.  The  twilight,  however,  had  imper 
ceptibly  been  creeping  into  the  room,  so  that 
Miss  Dimpleton,  who  was  less  skilled  in  this 
kind  of  psychological  divination,  saw  nothing 
but  a  tall,  handsome  man,  who  seemed  to  be 
very  tired. 

"  Mr.  Bodill,"  she  said,  rising  and  advancing 
to  meet  him,  "  we  have  come— 

"  Miss  Dimpleton  !  "  he  exclaimed,  starting 
back  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,  Mr.  Bodill,"  she  answered,  in 


92  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

her  clear,  calm  voice.  "  My  father  and  I  have 
come  to  beg  your  forgiveness  for  a  grievous 
wrong  we  have  done  you." 

"Yes.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Bodill,"  interposed 
Mr.  Dimpleton,  in  a  hurried  and  embarrassed 
way, — "  the  fact  is,  it  was  a  sad  mistake — a 
very  sad  mistake,  sir." 

"  It  was  more  than  that,"  insisted  the  daugh 
ter  ;  "  it  was  a  cruel  injustice  and  a  grievous 
wrong." 

Quintus,  instead  of  answering,  glanced  with 
anxious  tenderness  toward  Tita,  who  stood 
with  mouth,  eyes,  and  ears  intent  upon  dis 
coveries. 

"  Couldn't  you  please  go  down,  Pussy  dear, 
and  tell  Mrs.  Hanson  to  postpone  our  supper 
until  half-past  ?  "  he  said,  with  visible  uneasi 
ness.  "  Tell  her  we  have  visitors." 

When  Tita,  with  a  look  of  intelligent  sym 
pathy,  and  yet  with  evident  reluctance,  had  left 
the  room,  he  said  : 

"Now,  Miss  Dimpleton,  I  am  at  your  and 
your  father's  disposal.  Do,  pray,  be  seated. 
The  subject  to  which  you  refer  is  to  me  a  very 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  93 

painful  one,  and,  as  it  appears  to  me,  it  is 
of  no  use  to  tear  open  a  healing  wound." 

"  We  have  very  weighty  reasons  for  doing 
what  we  do,"  said  Miss  Dimpleton.  "We  owe 
it  to  ourselves  as  well  as  to  you.  I  need  hardly 
say  that  my  father  has  come  to  offer  you  the 
only  reparation  which  you  can  accept  and  he 
offer  with  justice  to  himself  and  to  you.  He 
begs  you,  as  a  favor,  to  resume  your  former 
relations  with  the  firm." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Bodill,  we  are  anxious  to  have 
you  resume  your  former  relations  with  us," 
echoed  Mr.  Dimpleton,  whose  conversation  in 
his  daughter's  presence  was  but  a  slightly 
modified  version  of  her  remarks.  "  We  can 
do  nothing  less,  in  justice  to  ourselves  and  to 
you.  I  hope,  sir,  that  that  will  be  satisfactory 
to  you." 

"  It  is  not  a  favor  we  offer,"  explained  the 
young  lady,  with  much  earnestness,  as  Quintus 
sat  leaning  his  head  on  his  hand  in  meditative 
silence ;  "  it  is  a  favor  we  beg  you  to  confer." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  put  it  in  that 
way,"  answered  Bodill,  without  looking  up. 


94  QUEEN  TTTANIA. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  cannot  quite  dismiss  the 
thought  that,  if  Mr.  Dimpleton  had  valued  me 
highly  as  a  member  of  the  firm,  he  would  not 
have  accepted  my  resignation  so  promptly,  and 
listened  so  readily  to  rumors  affecting  my 
character." 

"  You  force  me  to  be  explicit,"  replied  she, 
with  a  little  touch  of  excitement.  "  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  tell  you,  then,  that  it  was  not  my 
father,  but  it  was  I,  who  accepted  your  resigna 
tion — that  it  was  I  who,  if  you  choose,  ex 
pelled  you  from  the  firm.  My  father  had,  and 
has,  the  highest  appreciation  of  your  ability, 
and  has  sincerely  regretted  your  loss,  and  is 
now  only  anxious  to  have  you  accept  our 
apologies." 

It  evidently  did  not  occur  to  her  that  she 
was  humiliating  her  father  by  this  frank 
avowal,  nor  did  it  appear  to  embarrass  Mr. 
Dimpleton  in  the  least  to  have  his  daughter 
thus  openly  declare  his  dependence  upon  her. 
That  she  should  rule  and  he  obey,  was  part  of 
the  inscrutable  order  of  things,  which  could 
not  be  remedied  without  a  domestic  revolution. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  95 

And  as  his  yoke  had  been  very  gradually  as 
sumed,  and  had  never  been  very  hard  to  bear, 
the  revolutionary  spirit  had  long  ago  died  out 
of  him.  On  Quintus,  however,  Miss  Dimple- 
ton's  frankness  made  an  unpleasant  impres 
sion;  and  although  he  could  not  conquer  his 
admiration  of  her  beauty  and  her  clear  in 
tellect,  he  began  from  this  moment  to  discern 
the  alloy  of  baser  metal  in  her  character.  And 
it  is  marvellous  how  quickly  the  first  question 
ing  of  a  friend's  motive,  the  first  hint  of  cen 
sure,  is  followed  by  a  host  of  critical  sugges 
tions,  which  in  a  short  time,  entirely  transform 
our  friend's  character.  Thus,  in  Bodill's  case, 
the  illusion  was  broken,  and  Miss  Dimpleton 
swiftly  descended  from  the  ideal  heavens 
whither  she  had  flown  with  the  strong  wing- 
beats  of  Homer's  verse,  and  became  an  ordi 
nary  mortal— though,  as  such,  a  very  beautiful 
and  interesting  one. 

While  thoughts  like  these  had  been,  more 
or  less  consciously,  occupying  Bodill's  brain, 
Miss  Dimpleton  had  risen,  and  her  face  had 
assumed  that  vaguely  abstracted  air  which,  in  a 


96  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

lady  visitor,  indicates  that  she  is  on  the  watch 
for  a  favorable  opportunity  to  take  her  leave. 
Her  sire,  to  whom  Boclill's  silence  was  perhaps 
a  little  vexatious,  was  once  more  absorbed  in 
Webster.  He  could  not  comprehend  why  a 
young  fellow  should  not  jump  at  the  chance  of 
becoming  once  more  a  partner  in  a  business  so 
remunerative  and  so  securely  founded  as  his. 
The  daughter,  too,  who  had  anticipated  no 
difficulties  in  the  path  of  reconciliation,  was 
beginning  to  feel  a  little  impatient  with  his 
scruples ;  but,  being  intent  upon  her  purpose, 
determined  to  make  one  more  attempt. 

"I  had  one  other  errand  in  coming  here," 
she  said,  meeting  Quintus's  eye  with  her  can 
did  gaze.  "  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  your 
ward,  Miss  Hulbert,  and  I  beg  you  to  lend  her 
to  me  for  one  year.  I  wish  to  bring  her  out  in 
society,  and  to  complete  her  social  education, 
as  far  as  you  and  she  will  allow  me.  I  promise 
you  I  shall  not  spoil  her,  and,  if  you  wish  it,  I 
will  return  her  to  you  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
as  pure  and  sweet  and  beautiful  as  she  is  now. 
But,  as  you  are  undoubtedly  aware,  a  man  is 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  97 

not  the  best  educator  for  a  young  girl  of  her 
age;  she  needs  some  attentions  that  only  a 
woman  can  bestow.  Now,  what  do  you  say? 
I  know  the  precious  value  of  what  I  ask,  and  I 
shall  treasure  it  as  a  faithful  steward." 

The  praise  of  Tita,  and  the  delicate  retrac 
tion  of  all  charges  against  him  indicated  by 
this  request,  touched  the  Norseman  deeply. 
And  yet,  though  he  had  long  plotted  a  brilliant 
social  career  for  Tita,  he  felt  as  if  his  heart 
was  being  wrung  at  the  thought  of  losing 
her. 

"I  thank  you — I  thank  you  sincerely/1  he 
stammered,  quite  overcome  with  emotion ;  "but 
do  not  press  me  to-night.  I  do  not  refuse  your 
offer,  but  I  need  time  for  reflection.  To-mor 
row,  if  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  call  upon 
you,  and  reply  to  both  your  kind  proposi 
tions." 

"  And  remember,  please,"  said  Miss  Dimple- 
ton,  as  she  shook  his  hand  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  "  that  my  admiration  of  your  ward  is  no 
passing  fancy.  You  know  this  is  the  third 
time  I  have  seen  her." 
7 


98  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

" The  third  time?" 

"Yes.  The  first  time  was  at  Booth's  Theatre. 
The  second  time  was  this  morning,  when  she 
made  me  a  call,  which  you  see  I  have  been 
very  prompt  in  returning." 


XL 


WHAT  to  do  without  Tita — that  was  a  serious 
problem.  And  yet — thus  reasoned  the  wise 
and  conscientious  Quint — what  to  do  with  Tita 
might  in  time  become  a  still  more  serious  one. 
She  was  growing  up  into  womanhood,  and  all 
her  affections  had  centred  on  him,  only  be 
cause  they  had  had  no  one  else  upon  whom  they 
could  centre.  Was  it  fair,  then,  and  generous 
to  keep  her  thus  perpetually  in  ignorance  of 
the  world  ?  No ;  he  would  give  her  full  liberty 
of  choice  (he  had  an  idea  that  Tita  merely 
needed  to  look  at  a  man  to  have  him  fall  a  vic 
tim  at  her  feet),  he  would  allow  her  to  enjoy 
the  triumphs  to  which  her  mind  and  her 
beauty  entitled  her ;  and  if,  then,  after  a  moder 
ate  experience  of  the  world,  she  returned,  with 
an  unwavering  heart,  to  him — so  much  the 
better ;  he  would  not  possess  himself  of  the 
of  a  woman  surreptitiously,  nor  would 

99 


100  QUEEN   TITANIA. 

he  bestow  even  wealth  and  happiness  upon 
her  except  by  her  own  free  and  enlightened 
choice. 

Being,  in  the  meanwhile,  convinced  of  the 
sincerity  of  the  Dimpletons,  and  their  mortifi 
cation  at  the  injustice  they  had  done  him,  he 
also  determined  to  accept  their  offer  to  reenter 
the  firm.  He  would  thus  be  able  to  give  her 
the  social  advantages,  such  as  they  might  be, 
of  a  winter  in  New  York.  It  was  evident 
Quint  had  a  weak  spot  in  his  otherwise  sound 
composition.  He  desired  for  Tita  distinctions 
of  whose  worthlessness  he  was  himself  fully 
convinced.  He  reasoned  that  it  would  be 
cruel  to  have  his  prejudices  in  any  way  inter 
fere  with  her  pleasures. 

It  was  a  considerable  surprise  to  him  when  he 
found  that  Tita  was  not  a  party  to  his  specula 
tions — that,  in  fact,  she  was  violently  opposed 
to  all  his  ambitious  projects.  She  had  grown 
up  among  his  book-cases,  and  she  was  deter 
mined  to  remain  there.  If  he  was  going  to 
marry  Miss  Dimpleton  and  become  Mr.  Dini- 
pleton  (Tita  thought  this  a  dextergus  thrust), 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  101 

why,  then,  of  course  she  would  have  to  give 
her  consent  and,  in  the  end,  condone  the  of 
fence  by  continuing  to  reside  under  their  roof; 
but  her  blessing  she  would  withhold,  unless  it 
proved  entirely  indispensable  to  their  happi 
ness.  "When  Tita  was  in  her  bantering  mood, 
Quintus  always  sat  beaming  with  paternal  ad 
miration,  and  thus  frequently  forgot  his  argu 
ment.  And  the  little  rogue,  who  was  well  ac 
quainted  with  her  protector's  weaknesses,  had 
no  scruples  in  employing  this  method  of  es 
cape  from  disagreeable  topics.  The  evil  day, 
however,  was  merely  postponed.  Quintus  was 
really  this  time  in  earnest,  and  Tita  divined 
from  his  persistence  in  argument  that  his  mind 
was  made  up,  and  that  her  dilatory  tactics 
were  of  no  avail.  She  then  yielded  a  graceful 
acquiescence,  and,  without  further  remon 
strance,  allowed  herself  to  be  transferred  to 
the  residence  on  Madison  Avenue.  It  was  on 
the  day  of  separation,  when  they  were  seated 
together  in  the  carriage,  that  he  came  near 
asking  her  the  object  of  her  former  visit  to 
Miss  Dimpleton,  to  which  he  had  never  be- 


102  QUEEN  TITAOTA. 

fore  alluded ;  but,  being  a  great  master  in  the 
mental  arithmetic  of  affection,  he  was  subject 
to  sudden  revelations,  and,  in  this  instance, 
at  least,  he  knew  that  he  had  no  need  of 
asking. 


XII. 

Two  months  after  Tita's  arrival  the  Dim- 
pletons  broke  up  for  the  summer  and  went  to 
Newport,  where  they  owned  a  villa.  Tita,  of 
course,  was  removed  with  the  rest  of  the  bag 
gage  ;  and  Miss  Dimpleton,  who  counted  much 
on  the  pleasure  of  bringing  out  a  new  and 
striking  -  looking  young  lady,  had  naturally 
taken  pains  to  provide  her  with  a  sufficient 
number  of  effective  costumes.  All  the  dresses 
which  had  been  manufactured  by  Mrs.  Hanson, 
with  the  aid  of  the  "Bazar,"  and  even  those 
which  were  the  work  of  "fashionable  dress 
makers  "  who  dealt  in  "Modes  de  Paris"  were 
ruthlessly  cashiered  ;  in  their  places  marvel 
lous  compositions  of  laces  and  flowers  and  sat 
ins  were  devised  by  persons  who  had  seriously 
studied  the  art  of  hiding  defects  and  empha 
sizing  beauties,  and  harmoniously  arranging 
all  the  multifarious  details  of  a  young  lady's 
appearance.  It  was  singular  enough  that  the 

103 


104  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

Homeric  Miss  Dimpleton,  who  never  aimed  at 
elaborate  effects  in  her  own  toilet,  should  have 
expended  so  much  time  and  thought  on  triv 
ialities  in  her  guest's  behalf.  She  had,  how 
ever,  a  dimly  defined  purpose,  which,  though 
unacknowledged  at  first,  gradually  began  to  be 
countenanced,  and  at  last  governed  all  her 
actions.  It  had  risen  for  the  first  time,  con 
sciously,  in  her  mind  when  she  made  Bodill 
the  proposal  to  attend  to  Tita's  social  educa 
tion  ;  but  she  had  been  ashamed  of  it,  and  had 
persuaded  herself  that  she  had  much  more 
laudable  motives  in  assuming  this  responsible 
charge.  Crudely  stated,  she  recognized  in 
Tita  a  rival,  and  she  wished  to  make  her  harm 
less.  And  the  simplest  way  to  accomplish 
this  would  be  to  marry  her  to  another  man. 
She  did  not  doubt  that  such  an  arrangement 
would  conduce  to  Tita's  happiness  as  well  as 
to  her  own ;  at  any  rate,  Tita  must  take  her 
chances  in  the  matrimonial  lottery  as  other 
women  did,  and  not  foolishly  aspire  to  an  ex 
ceptional  and  ideal  happiness,  which  was  only 
reserved  for  very  exceptional  persons  like  her- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  105 

self.  Of  course,  that  was  not  the  way  she  for 
mulated  her  argument,  but  it  was  nevertheless 
the  inevitable  inference  from  her  mode  of  rea 
soning. 

Since  her  discovery  of  her  mistake  in  regard 
to  Tita's  birth,  and  especially  since  her  visit 
in  his  library,  Bodill  had  become  a  moral  hero 
to  Miss  Dimpleton.  She  was  not  madly  and 
romantically  in  love  with  him,  but  she  re 
garded  him  as  a  highly  developed  and  excep 
tional  specimen  of  the  human  race,  and  as 
peculiarly  fitted  for  a  life-long  companionship 
with  herself.  He  was  supremely  desirable  to 
her  in  every  legitimate  relation  in  which  a  man 
could  come  to  a  woman,  and  she  could  see 
nothing  undignified  or  unwomanly  in  her  exert 
ing  herself  to  become  equally  desirable  to  him. 
If  a  little  extra  manoeuvring  was  needed,  she 
excused  herself  with  the  reflection  that  men 
were  naturally  a  little  obtuse  and  less  clear 
sighted  than  women,  and  would  be  more  likely 
to  yield  to  an  impulse  of  tenderness  or  of  pity 
rather  than  weigh  rationally  their  chances  of 
happiness  with  two  differently  endowed  women. 


106  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

Tita  more  than  justified  Miss  Dimpleton's 
expectations  in  regard  to  her  social  success. 
She  made  a  sensation  the  first  morning  she 
appeared  on  the  beach.  Within  a  short  time 
she  "  became  the  rage,"  to  use  the  favorite 
phrase  of  her  admirers.  Her  toilets  were 
studied  by  hundreds  of  envious  eyes,  and  re 
ported  by  the  local  correspondents  of  the  New 
York  papers.  "Wherever  Tita  went  (always 
under  Miss  Dimpleton's  protecting  wing),  gen 
tlemen  sprang  up  about  her  as  if  by  magic. 
During  an  hour  in  the  morning,  she  held  court 
from  her  phaeton  on  the  beach,  and  astonished 
her  protectress  by  the  ease  with  which  she 
adapted  herself  to  the  conversational  tone  of 
every  one  who  came  up  to  address  her.  In 
the  afternoons,  when,  during  the  fashionable 
hour,  she  lolletl  at  Miss  Dimpleton's  side  in 
their  carriage,  and  returned,  with  a  queenly  air, 
the  salutations  of  the  passing  equestrians, 
there  was  probably  not  a  person  the  whole 
length  of  the  avenue  who  called  forth  more 
exclamations  of  wonder  and  admiration,  or 
concerning  whom  more  inquiries  were  made. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  107 

Miss  Dimpleton  congratulated  herself  on  Tita's 
receptivity  for  frivolous  impressions,  and  re 
flected,  with  half-suppressed  satisfaction,  that, 
without  much  effort  on  her  part,  the  charming 
little  recluse  of  Jersey  City  was  being  trans 
formed  into  an  accomplished  worldling.  She 
had  evidently  needed  only  the  opportunity. 
Miss  Jessie  did  not  know,  however,  what  a 
superior  and  wholly  philosophical  view  this 
absurd  little  Tita  was  taking  of  the  dazzling 
Vanity  Fair  at  which  she  was  expected  to 
"  assist "  in  a  more  active  capacity  than  that 
of  a  spectator.  Nor  was  she  aware  that  Tita 
spent  an  hour  every  night,  no  matter  how  late 
she  returned  home,  in  describing  to  Quintus 
the  doings  of  the  day.  Her  daily  bulletins 
were,  to  the  unprejudiced  eyes  of  their  recipi 
ent,  the  wittiest  and  most  brilliant  specimens 
of  epistolary  writing  that  had  appeared  in  any 
literature.  He  read  them  aloud  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hanson,  who  somehow  failed  to  appreciate  any 
of  the  good  points,  and  was  even  tempted,  to 
take  Mr.  Dimpleton  into  his  confidence,  merely 
to  show  him  what  a  wonderful  creature  Tita 


108  QUEEN   TITANIA. 

was.  Many  and  many  a  lonely  hour  did  he 
beguile  in  reading  and  re-reading  the  funny 
little  backhanded  epistles  (for  Tita's  penman 
ship  was  her  weak  point,  though  her  spelling 
was  irreproachable),  gloating  over  the  multi 
tude  of  affectionate  absurdities  which  were  pre 
fixed  to  his  name,  and  rejoicing  in  the  fresh 
and  pure  spirit  which  seemed  to  exhale  from 
every  word  and  syllable.  Of  course  he  missed 
her  sorely,  but  the  generosity  of  his  love  did 
not  allow  him  to  pine,  and  far  less  to  urge  her 
return.  She  was  having  a  useful  experience 
of  life ;  and  he — well,  he  was  passing  through  a 
necessary  discipline. 

Among  Tita's  many  adorers,  all  of  whom 
were  encouraged  by  the  diplomatic  Miss  Dim- 
pleton,  there  were  especially  two  whose  atten 
tions  toward  the  middle  of  the  season  grew 
sufficiently  pronounced  to  cause  the  usual  ru 
mors  of  engagements  and  refusals  and  recon 
ciliations,  and  whatever  other  contingencies 
may  occur  in  a  man's  pre-matrimonial  career. 
The  one  was  Count  von  Markenstein,  a  former 
attache  of  the  German  legation  at  Washington, 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  109 

and  the  other  Mr.  Horace  Dibble,  a  very 
harmless  young  gentleman  who  had  had  the 
misfortune  to  inherit  a  million.  The  Count 
was  a  tall  and  superbly  built  man  of  thirty, 
with  a  beautiful  blond  beard,  and  hands 
which  would  have  been  no  less  remarkable  if 
he  had  taken  less  pains  to  exhibit  them  to  ad 
vantage.  He  was  indefatigable  in  arranging 
sailing  parties,  to  which  he  invited  thirty 
ladies  for  the  sake  of  concealing  his  preference 
for  one ;  he  trotted  and  cantered  at  all  hours 
past  the  Dimpleton  villa,  with  a  view  to  show 
ing  his  elegant  horsemanship ;  and  he  bore 
with  unfailing  good-humor  Tita's  caprices,  and 
her  often  very  pointed  rebuffs.  Young  ladies 
must  be  expected  to  be  enigmatical,  he  rea 
soned,  and  they  should  be  allowed  a  certain 
latitude  in  their  caprices  previous  to  mar 
riage.  But  he  was  acquainted  with  a  course  of 
post-matrimonial  discipline  which  would  soon 
correct  all  little  irregularities  of  conduct,  sen 
timents,  and  opinions.  The  Count  was  an 
officer  in  the  German  army,  and  had  great 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  discipline.  Tita  was 


110  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

far  too  fearless  and  independent,  he  thought; 
but  as  she  was  otherwise  so  wholly  adorable, 
her  minor  failings  might  readily  be  forgiven 
until  the  time  came  for  correcting  them. 

Poor  Tita  had  not  the  remotest  suspicion  of 
the  sinister  designs  which  Count  yon  Marken- 
stein  was  harboring  in  his  bosom.  To  her 
he  was  merely  a  ponderous  young  man  who 
waltzed  delightfully,  spoke  indifferent  English, 
and  was  inclined  to  be  didactic.  It  was  therefore 
a  genuine  surprise  to  her  when,  one  evening, 
without  a  word  of  warning,  he  flung  himself  at 
her  feet  in  the  old  operatic  style,  and  made 
some  preposterous  requests  which  she  never 
could  think  of  granting.  She  fled  in  dismay 
into  the  library,  where  Miss  Dimple  ton  was 
sitting  deeply  absorbed  in  Buckle's  "  History 
of  Civilization,"  and  declared  that  she  was 
afraid  the  Count  was  ill.  Miss  Dimpleton,  who 
supposed  he  had  fainted,  rushed  into  the  par 
lor  with  a  bottle  of  eau  de  Cologne  in  one  hand, 
and  a  decanter  of  water  in  the  other,  but  saw 
nothing  at  all  ludicrous  in  the  situation  when 
she  discovered  her  mistake. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  Ill 

When  Miss  Jessie  returned,  Tita  observed 
that  she  had  that  strained  expression  about 
her  mouth  which  always  indicated  that  she 
was  angry. 

"Tita,"  she  said,  in  a  severe  tone,  "I  am 
greatly  shocked  to  think  that  you  could  behave 
so  rudely  to  a  man  of  Count  von  Markenstein's 
importance.  Why,  any  girl  in  Newport  would 
be  proud  to  receive  his  addresses." 

"Then  the  Count  has  been  making  you  a 
confession,"  said  the  undaunted  Tita. 

"  The  Count  told  me  enough  to  give  me  the 
clue  to  the  situation.  And  I  was  obliged  to 
apologize  for  you." 

"I  am  very  sorry  you  took  that  trouble,  for 
it  was  the  Count  who  ought  to  have  apolo 
gized  to  me  for  behaving  so  ridiculously. 
Now,  tell  me  what  would  you  have  done  if  a 
man,  whom  you  supposed  to  be  sane,  sud 
denly  flung  himself  at  your  feet,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  recite  what  appeared  to  be  a  piece 
from  'Kobert  le  Diable,'  or  some  other  lurid 
opera?" 

"  I  would  have  raised  him  up,  and  told  him 


112  QUEEN  TTTAXIA. 

that  we  could  converse  to  better  advantage 
standing  or  sitting." 

"  Well,  that  might  have  been  better,  I  ad 
mit  And  I  will  do  that,  next  time  a  man 
loses  his  reason  in  my  presence." 

"  Perhaps  this  may  have  been  yonr  last  op 
portunity,"  observed  Miss  Dimpleton,  primly. 

"  So  much  the  better.  I  always  find  men 
more  agreeable  before  they  have  taken  leave 
of  their  senses." 

"And  they  would  undoubtedly  find  you 
more  agreeable  if  you  would  control  that 
unruly  tongue  of  yours,  which  wags  very 
thoughtlessly,  and  often  makes  witty  but  ill- 
advised  remarks.  Men,  my  child,  are  not  at 
tracted  by  young  ladies  who  have  an  eye  for 
their  weaknesses,  and  who  are  capable  of  tak 
ing  a  humorous  view  of  them." 

"  And  tell  me  why  should  I  be  so  anxious 
to  attract  men  ?  I  never  cared  a  straw  for  any 
man  but  Quint  ;  and  he  always  laughs  at  my 
funny  remarks,  and  kisses  me,  and  says, 
'  Naughty  Queen  Titania ! '  and  then  I  always 
feel  encouraged  to  go  on." 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  113 

"  Mr.  Bodill,  I  am  afraid,  has  systematically 
spoiled  you.  He  ought  to  have  extracted  the 
sting  in  your  tongue  while  it  was  yet  small, 
and  not  allowed  it  to  grow  until  it  is  capable 
of  doing  you  harm.  You  know  that  it  is  only 
the  unmarriageable  bees  that  sting,  and  they 
have  to  spend  their  lives  working  for  the  mar 
ried  queen  and  her  children.  But  the  married 
gentlemen  bees,  who  failed  to  detect  their 
charms,  they  despatch  into  eternity  by  way  of 
revenge." 

"  What  an  admirable  arrangement !  I'  ap 
prove  of  that  highly,  although  I  should  be 
sorry  to  see  Quint  fall  a  victim  to  a  vindictive 
spinster  when  he  finally  makes  his  choice.  I 
shall  put  him  on  his  guard,  however,  and  tell 
him  to  be  sure  not  to  fail  to  discover  any 
body's  charms." 

Miss  Dimpleton  looked  up  seriously  from 
Buckle,  whom  she  had  all  the  while  made  a 
pretence  of  reading,  and  scrutinized  Tita's  face 
with  an  uneasy  glance.  But  Tita  looked  so 
gay  and  innocent,  it  was  impossible  to  believe 
her  guilty  of  a  malicious  intention. 


XIII. 

ABOUT  the  first  of  October,  the  Dimpletons 
returned  to  the  city.  Mr.  Dibble  and  the  in 
defatigable  Count  also  began  to  find  the  sea 
shore  unpleasant  about  the  same  date,  and 
might  have  been  seen  at  any  time  of  the  day, 
during  the  month  of  October,  lounging  at  the 
windows  or  in  the  billiard-room  of  a  certain 
club  for  fashionable  idlers. 

It  was  rumored  that  the  Dimpletons  were 
going  to  give  a  magnificent  party  for  Tita,  in 
order,  as  it  were,  to  introduce  her  publicly  as  a 
recognized  member  of  their  social  world  and  a 
proper  recipient  of  invitations.  Her  success 
at  Newport  had  made  her  a  conspicuous  per 
sonage,  and  there  was  much  conjecture  afloat 
regarding  her  origin.  Whence  she  came  and 
who  she  was,  no  one  could  tell  with  certainty  ; 
and  Miss  Dimpleton,  whenever  she  was  di 
rectly  appealed  to,  always  answered,  placidly : 
"  She  is  a  dear  friend  of  ours,  whom  we  expect 
to  spend  the  winter  with  us." 

114 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  115 

That  was  hardly  sufficient  to  check  curios 
ity  ;  but  as  no  further  information  could  be 
elicited,  and  as  Tita,  moreover,  was  a  young 
lady  of  fine  bearing  and  social  accomplish 
ments,  their  circle  of  society  in  the  city  (as  at 
Newport)  was  only  too  glad  to  accept  her  for 
what  she  was,  without  reference  to  her  ante 
cedents. 

Miss  Dimpleton,  who  had  been  much  cha 
grined  by  Tita's  supercilious  treatment  of  her 
most  eligible  adorers,  had  resolved  to  manoeu 
vre  more  actively  in  her  behalf  than  she  had 
ventured  to  do  during  the  summer.  She  ex 
erted  herself  earnestly  to  gain  Tita's  friendship 
and  confidence,  embraced  her  (a  little  awk 
wardly,  perhaps,)  at  bedtime,  and  showed  an 
affectionate  solicitude  for  her  comfort,  which 
puzzled  Tita  the  more  because  she  could  not 
more  than  half  reciprocate.  To  her  Miss  Dim 
pleton  always  remained  a  formidable  phenom 
enon.  She  told  herself  a  hundred  times  a  day 
that  Miss  Dimpleton  was  as  kind  as  she  could 
be ;  and  whenever  a  disloyal  thought  would 
knock  for  admission  to  her  mind,  she  would 


116  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

make  an  effort  to  brush,  it  away  as  one  does  a 
cobweb.  But  cobwebs  have  a  way  of  entan 
gling  themselves  in  one's  fingers  the  more  one 
tries  to  get  rid  of  them ;  and  she  was  greatly 
tempted  to  unburden  her  heart  to  Quintus, 
who  came  regularly  twice  a  week  to  see  her, 
and  then  usually  stayed  to  dine  with  the  fam 
ily.  But  some  curious,  dim  apprehension  al 
ways  checked  her  tongue,  and,  at  all  events, 
the  open-hearted  and  innocent  Quint  would 
never  suspect  any  human  being  of  double-deal 
ing,  and  far  less  of  a  complicated  intrigue. 
She  wondered  what  had  happened  to  her,  or 
what  transformation  she  had  undergone,  since 
she  left  Quint.  Instead  of  flinging  herself 
on  his  neck  at  their  first  meeting  after  her 
return,  as  she  had  anticipated  doing,  and  as 
she  still  longed  to  do,  she  had  greeted  him 
with  a  formal  dutiful  caress,  and  then  seated 
herself  to  converse  with  him  as  if  he  had  been 
an  accidental  acquaintance.  Quintus,  too,  some 
how  seemed  ill  at  ease  ;  he  sat  gazing  at  her 
with  an  anxious  smile,  asked  her  how  she  had 
enjoyed  herself,  whether  she  would  like  to  go 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  117 

back,  etc.  But  it  was  evident  that  lie  was 
quite  overawed  by  the  splendor  of  her  toilet, 
the  perfection  of  her  manner,  and  the  whole 
newness  of  her  personality.  Tita  felt  the  awk 
wardness  of  the  situation  acutely,  and  would 
have  given  worlds  to  know  what  Quintus  was 
thinking  about  her.  Never  had  he  seemed  to 
her  dearer  than  in  this  moment.  That  good 
and  noble  face,  those  honest  blue  eyes,  and 
the  kind  smile  which  lighted  up  his  features 
so  wondrously — she  could  never  be  tired  of 
gazing  at  them.  She  excused  herself  imme 
diately  after  dinner  that  night ;  and  when  Miss 
Jessie  came  up,  an  hour  later,  she  found  her 
lying  on  the  tiger-skin  rug  before  the  fire 
place,  and  sobbing  like  a  heart-broken  child. 
On  inquiring,  Miss  Dimpleton  learned  that 
she,  Tita,  was  not  at  all  nice ;  that,  in  fact,  she 
was  horrid,  and  that  no  one  liked  her  except 
a  ridiculous  foreign  Count  and  another  man 
who  hadn't  two  coherent  ideas  in  his  head. 
Against  this  species  of  unreason  Miss  Jessie 
felt  herself  utterly  helpless.  Nevertheless, 
from  a  sense  of  duty,  she  sat  down  calmly 


118  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

to  refute  Tita's  assertions,  beginning  with 
her  imputation  against  Mr.  Dibble's  in 
tellect.  Tita,  however,  refused  to  be  com 
forted. 

Scenes  like  this  became  more  frequent  as  the 
months  progressed,  especially  after  Miss  Jessie 
and  Quintus  had  decided  to  resume  their  Ho 
meric  readings ;  and  when  they  talked  at  the 
dinner  table  about  the  Greek  ideal,  as  expressed 
in  Hector  rather  than  in  Achilles,  and  compared 
these  gentlemen  with  Siegfried,  in  the  "  Mbe- 
lungen "  lay,  poor  Tita  felt  as  if  they  had  en 
tered  into  a  conspiracy  against  her  happiness, 
and  her  tiny  brain  sometimes  seemed  about  to 
explode  with  indignation.  That  Quintus  could 
be  so  heartless  as  to  sit  and  talk  for  a  whole 
hour  about  topics  which  he  knew  were  be 
yond  her  reach,  when  he  must  be  well  aware 
that  Miss  Jessie  had  introduced  them  merely 
for  the  purpose  of  making  him  feel  her  superi 
ority  to  Tita— that  was  the  drop  which  made 
her  cup  of  woe  run  over.  And  to  see  his  face 
light  up  with  responsive  ardor  whenever  Miss 
Jessie  made  a  happy  remark — as  frequently 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  119 

she  did, — it  was  more  than  mortal  heart  could 
bear.  It  never  occurred  to  her  that  it  might 
be  Homer  and  not  Miss  Dimple  ton  who  was 
her  rival.  She  was  too  offended  and  indignant 
to  make  such  nice  discriminations,  and  she  in 
flicted  much  unnecessary  suffering  upon  her 
self  by  the  rashness  with  which  she  jumped 
at  mortifying  conclusions.  Another  source  of 
Annoyance  was  Mr.  Dibble's  unwearied  at 
tentions.  Apparently  he  was  conducting  a 
carefully  plotted  campaign  against  Tita's 
heart.  One  week  he  assaulted  her  with  bon 
bons  in  exquisite  boxes  of  ingenious  shapes; 
and  when  that  had  no  effect,  he  caused  a  floral 
shower  to  descend  upon  her  at  the  most  unex 
pected  hours.  Another  week  he  beguiled  her, 
with  Miss  Dimpleton  as  chaperone,  to  ride  with 
him  in  the  park,  in  a  turn-out  and  with  a  span 
of  roans  which  would  have  appealed,  in  their 
possessor's  behalf,  to  a  heart  of  stone.  Horse 
back  rides,  too,  were  proposed ;  but  Tita  could 
not  be  induced  to  make  the  venture,  ostensibly 
because  she  had  no  confidence  in  her  eques 
trian  skill.  Mr.  Dibble's  splendid  bays  (accom- 


120  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

panied  by  a  groom  in  buckskin  knee-breeches) 
stood  pawing  the  pavement  in  vain  in  front  of 
the  Dimpleton  mansion;  while  Tita,  hidden 
behind  the  curtain  in  her  bedroom,  stood 
battling  with  temptation,  one  moment  on  the 
point  of  surrendering  to  the  charms  of  the 
horses,  and  in  the  next  yielding  to  her  fear  of 
Quint's  disapproval,  if  she  encouraged  a  man 
whom  she  knew  it  would  be  impossible  for  her 
to  marry. 

The  Count,  too,  continued  his  visits  at  the 
house,  and  had  long  interviews  with  Miss  Dim 
pleton,  from  which  both  departed  with  pro 
digiously  solemn  countenances.  Tita  was  be 
ginning  «to  congratulate  herself  on  her  freedom 
from  further  persecution,  when  certain  ominous 
events  happened  which  could  not  but  cause 
apprehension.  The  Count  sent  her  a  superbly 
bound  and  illuminated  copy  of  Thomas  a  Kem- 
pis's  "Imitation  of  Christ"  (a  gift  from  his 
mother  at  his  confirmation),  and  added  a 
high-flown  inscription  of  his  own  which  made 
Tita  shiver.  To  her  it  seemed  a  piece  of  im 
pertinence  to  send  such  a  valuable  gift  to  a 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  121 

comparatively  strange  lady;  and  she  would 
have  promptly  returned  it  if  Miss  Dimpleton 
had  not  peremptorily  interfered.  A  very  for 
tunate  occurrence,  however,  soon  turned  the 
tide  of  affairs  in  an  unforeseen  direction.  On  a 
Sunday  in  October,  the  Count  had,  according 
to  his  custom,  met  Miss  Dimpleton  and  Tita 
at  church,  and  the  former  had  invited  him  to 
accompany  them  home  and  stay  to  dinner. 
As  they  were  walking  down  the  avenue,  con 
versing  of  indifferent  things,  the  Count  sud 
denly  stopped  to  gaze  at  a  newly  repaired 
church,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh,  vat  a  peautiful  shpeetle  !" 

"  Yes,  it  is  certainly  very  handsome,"  replied 
Miss  Dimpleton,  gravely. 

But  Tita, — the  unhappy  Tita, — although  she 
knew  perfectly  how  rude  she  was,  began  to 
shake  internally,  and  the  more  she  tried  to  rid 
herself  of  the  "peautiful  shpeetle"  the  more 
irresistibly  comical  it  appeared  to  her,  and 
after  several  moments  of  ineffectual  struggle, 
she  burst  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter. 
She  was  about  to  apologize  for  her  rudeness 


122  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

when  the  Count,  who  had  ignored  her  amuse 
ment  as  long  as  possible,  now  stiffly  raised  his 
hat  and  said  : 

"  Ladies,  I  have  the  honor  to  bid  you  good- 
day." 

That  was  the  end  of  Count  von  Markenstein's 
courtship,  and  Miss  Dimpleton  now  concen 
trated  all  her  hopes  on  Mr.  Dibble,  who  was 
of  the  slow  and  faithful  kind,  and  had  not 
sufficient  confidence  in  his  own  irresistibility 
to  risk  a  premature  proposal.  It  was  exceed 
ingly  provoking  to  be  obliged  to  strike  a  name 
like  that  of  Count  von  Markenstein  from  the 
list  of  one's  visitors ;  but  as  there  was  now  no 
help  for  it,  it  had  to  be  borne  with  philosophy. 
Moreover,  Miss  Jessie  was  not  the  ordinary 
type  of  snob  who  runs  after  great  names  whose 
only  distinction  is  their  antiquity.  She  was, 
perhaps,  rather  an  intellectual  snob,  who  would 
have  felt  prouder  of  a  call  from  Browning  or 
Herbert  Spencer  than  of  one  from  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  She  would  have  liked  to  rebuke 
Tita  severely  for  her  rudeness  to  the  Count ; 
but  fearing  that  it  would  be  impolitic,  and 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  123 

might  send  the  sensitive  girl  flying  back  into 
Quintus's  arms,  she  restrained  her  indignation, 
and  merely  remarked  that  she  regretted  the 
unfortunate  occurrence. 


XIV. 

TITA'S  party  was  fixed  for  the  sixth  of  Decem 
ber.  All  day  long  during  the  preceding  week 
the  coupe  was  in  requisition,  and  the  stores 
were  ransacked  in  search  of  the  choicest  pro 
ducts  which  the  market  could  afford.  Tita's 
costume  was  planned  with  a  seriousness  as  if 
the  fate  of  the  nation  depended  upon  the  dis 
position  of  this  ribbon,  or  that  bit  of  lace. 
Months  before,  artistes  of  international  reputa 
tion  had  been  consulted,  and  had  submitted 
their  designs,  which  were  again  submitted  to 
others  for  criticism.  Miss  Dimpleton  descend 
ed  from  her  Homeric  altitudes  of  thought,  and 
discussed  millinery,  not  enthusiastically  and 
vehemently,  as  the  majority  of  women  do,  but 
weightily  and  soberly,  and  with  a  minute  atten 
tion  to  details  which  she  never  had  displayed 
in  her  own  behalf.  She  wished  to  make  Tita 

• 

so  completely  intoxicated  with  her  success  that 
a  return  to  Quint's  narrow  world  and  sober 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  125 

concerns  would  seem  an  utter  impossibility; 
and,  judging  by  the  ardor  with  which  Tita  fre 
quently,  when  she  was  in  the  mood  for  it,  en 
tered  into  social  enjoyments,  she  could  not  be 
far  wrong  in  supposing  that  the  relapse  into 
her  former  obscurity  was  no  longer  contem 
plated  with  unalloyed  pleasure.  To  be  Mrs. 
Dibble,  with  a  million  or  more,  would  certainly, 
to  any  properly  constructed  young  lady,  appear 
preferable,  especially  when  Mr.  Dibble  was 
inoffensive  and  pliable — a  mere  unobtrusive 
appendage  to  his  wealth.  Miss  Dimple  ton  was 
proudly  conscious  of  being  herself  superior  to 
this  kind  of  allurements,  but  then  she  had  the 
wealth  already,  and  what  she  needed  to  give 
dignity  to  these  sordidly  accumulated  posses 
sions  was  exceptional  refinement  and  intellec 
tual  culture.  She  wished  above  all  things  to 
be  exceptional,  and  the  possession  of  moderate 
wealth  was  by  no  means  a  claim  to  distinction 
in  New  York.  Tita,  however,  could  not  be  ex 
pected  to  appreciate  or  to  cherish  such  com 
plicated  ambitions.  She  had  only  blindly  de 
sired  what  happened,  for  very  different  and 


126  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

loftier  reasons,  to  be  equally  desirable  to  Miss 
Dimpleton ;  and  slie  must  be  influenced  to  see 
that  such  a  desire,  on  her  part,  was  preposter 
ous. 

It  was  an  amusing  spectacle  to  see  Tita,  on 
the  evening  of  December  6th,  standing  in  the 
middle  of  her  room  with  her  elbows  uplifted, 
and  surrounded  by  an  admiring  circle  of  dress 
makers  and  servants.  A  French  modiste,  with 
pins  in  her  mouth  and  a  determined  frown  (not 
of  wrath,  but  of  energy)  on  her  brow,  was 
kneeling  behind  her,  bestowing  her  attention 
on  some  obscure  fastenings  about  the  skirt  of 
the  dress,  and  a  maid  was  frisking  about  with 
flowers,  and  hand-glasses,  and  crimping-irons, 
and  what  not,  in  her  hands,  and  bursting  every 
now  and  then  into  ecstatic  exclamations  at 
Tita's  loveliness.  Tita,  whose  vanity  had  been 
persistently  fed  during  the  last  eight  months, 
could  almost  feel  herself  grow  taller  as  she 
contemplated  the  effect  of  this  rich  and  marvel 
lous  attire  in  the  pier-glass.  She  walked  like 
a  queen,  and  heard  with  delight  the  silken  rus 
tle  of  her  train. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  127 

A  little  after  nine  o'clock,  the  guests  began 
to  arrive.  When  the  bell  rang  for  the  first 
time,  Tita's  heart  shot  up  into  her  throat.  She 
ran  (or,  rather  she  would  have  run,  had  her 
dress  permitted  it)  toward  the  parlor  door 
where  Miss  Jessie  was  standing,  and  took  her 
station  at  her  side  in  the  prescribed  attitude. 
She  ran  rapidly  over  all  her  instructions  in  her 
head,  and  got  her  mouth  into  position  to  say 
what  she  had  been  told  was  proper  to  say, 
raised  her  eyes  slowly,  when,  lo  and  behold — 
Quint!  That  was  too  much  for  Tita's  com 
posure.  She  was  about  to  yield  to  her  mirth 
in  her  usual  hearty  fashion,  when  Miss  Dim- 
pleton,  foreseeing  accidents,  said,  grimly :  "  Ee- 
member  your  dress,  please,"  and  Tita  immedi 
ately  sobered.  Quintus  still  stood  bowing  in 
front  of  her,  and  wondered  what  there  was  in 
his  appearance  that  was  so  ridiculous. 

"  I  wanted  to  be  the  first  to  see  Queen  Tita- 
nia  in  her  glory,"  he  said,  with  a  curious  look, 
which  was  both  diffident  and  searching.  "I 
wanted  to  see  her  before  the  glare  of  the  light 
shall  have  paled  her  loveliness  never  so  little, 


128  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

and  before  the  jostlings  of  the  crowd  shall 
have  rubbed  the  flower  dust  off  her  butterfly 
wings." 

"I  suspect  that  metaphor  is  intended  as  a 
rebuke  to  me,"  said  Miss  Dimple  ton,  with  a 
tentative  smile.  "  It  was  I  who  undertook  to 
guard  Tita  against  such  calamities." 

"It  was  not  my  intention  to  reproach  any 
one,"  said  Quintus,  as  he  pressed  Miss  Dim- 
pleton's  hand  and  turned  to  give  place  to  the 
next  arrival.  Just  then  Tita  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  back,  and  suddenly  observed  that  his 
dress-coat  was  very  old-fashioned.  The  sleeves 
were  too  tight  and  the  skirts  too  long,  and  the 
lapels  smaller  than  the  fashion  of  the  day  re 
quired.  Should  she  allow  him  to  go  about  in 
that  costume,  which  certainly  would  make  him 
conspicuous  in  a  very  undesirable  manner,  and 
render  him  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  the  people? 
No  ;  she  would  rather  take  the  risk  of  displeas 
ing  him.  He,  of  course,  would  never  detect 
what  sort  of  figure  he  cut ;  but,  during  these 
months,  she  had  grown  to  be  acutely  sensitive 
to  the  world's  opinion  of  him. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  129 

"  Quint,"  she  said,  touching  his  arm  gently, 
"  pardon  me  if  I  venture  to  be  impertinent,  but 
you  know  it  is  an  old  privilege  of  mine.  Would 
you,  as  a  favor  to  me,  take  a  cab  and  drive 
down  to  a  tailor  on  Broadway,  whose  address 
I  will  give  you?  He  makes  a  business  of 
hiring  out  dress-coats  to  gentlemen ;  and  yours, 
dear  Quint,  is  not  exactly  stylish." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Quint,  in  astonishment, 
"  it  was  made  for  my  graduation,  and  I  haven't 
worn  it  much  since." 

This  seemed  to  Quint's  unworldly  intellect 
a  striking  proof  that  his  coat  must  be  strictly 
comme  ilfaut.  He  had  worn  it  on  so  important 
an  occasion  as  his  graduation,  and  in  the  pres 
ence  of  a  select  audience;  and  as  he  had 
rarely  worn  it  since,  it  was  evident  that  its 
stylishness  had  remained  unimpaired. 

"You  know  you  don't  understand  those 
things,  Quint,"  said  Tita,  with  an  appealing 
look.  "  And  now  I  can't  explain  them  to  you. 
But,  pray,  do  what  I  ask  of  you." 

"Well,  anything  to  please  your  majesty,"  he 
answered,  with  a  puzzled  smile,  which  to  Tita 


130  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

was  quite  pathetic.  She  followed  him  with 
her  eyes  as  he  mounted  the  stairs,  and  saw  him 
look  at  the  sleeves  of  his  coat  with  an  air  as  if 
to  say : 

"  Well,  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  is  that 
isn't  right  about  you." 

When  he  returned,  an  hour  later,  with  an 
irreproachable  coat,  the  large  salon  was  crowd 
ed,  and  the  red-and-white  awning  which  led 
from  the  carriages  to  the  front  door  was 
'crowded  with  rustling  and  perfumed  couples. 
Tita  still  stood  at  the  door,  bowing  and  hand 
shaking,  but  her  smile  was  perhaps  a  little 
forced,  and  her  flushed  cheeks  seemed  to  indi 
cate  that  something  was  laboring  within  her. 
The  fact  was  that,  since  Quint's  departure, 
she  did  not  feel  at  all  so  sure  that  she  had 
done  right  in  criticising  his  remarkable  dress- 
coat.  The  mere  suggestion  of  a  criticism  on 
her  part  must  have  appeared  like  black  ingrati 
tude  to  him ;  and,  moreover,  there  is  always  a 
hint  of  patronage  or  superiority  in  even  the 
mildest  comment  on  clothes  and  personal  ap 
pearance.  When  she  saw  Quint  trying  to 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  131 

wedge  his  way  unnoticed  into  the  back  parlor, 
she  held  up  her  fan,  and  after  a  moment's 
hesitation  he  came  toward  her. 

"Have  you  forgiven  me,  Quint?  "  she  asked, 
remorsefully,  while  she  pressed  his  hand  warm 
ly.  "You  know  it  would  make  me  very  un 
happy  to  think  that  I  had  displeased  you." 

"You  did  right,  my%dear,"  he  answered, 
kindly,  "  to  give  me  a  hint  which  no  one  could 
have  given  me  but  you." 

Mr.  Dibble  now  came  to  claim  Tita's  part 
nership  for  a  waltz  which  she  had  been  rash 
enough  to  promise  him  ;  and  excusing  herself 
to  Bodill,  she  presently  swung  out  upon  the 
floor,  encircled  by  Mr.  Dibble's  arm.  Quintus, 
who  so  often  in  spirit  had  anticipated  his  un 
selfish  delight  at  witnessing  just  such  a  spec 
tacle,  felt  a  horrible  pang  darting  through  him, 
and  would  have  liked  to  strangle  Mr.  Dibble 
for  presuming  to  touch  her.  Hardly  had  the 
young  millionaire  conducted  her  to  her  seat, 
before  a  dozen  other  gentlemen  surrounded  her, 
and  displayed  an  extraordinary  eagerness  to 
scrawl  their  names  on  her  card.  Quintus  ob- 


132  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

served,  with  a  certain  contemptuous  admir 
ation,  that  their  hair,  their  moustaches,  and 
their  clothes  were  in  that  state  of  absolute 
perfection  which  is  unattainable  in  any  one 
who  does  not  make  the  study  of  his  toilet  an 
absorbing  business.  He  discovered  for  the 
first  time  his  own  inferiority  in  point  of  sar 
torial  and  tonsorial  finish,  and,  strive  as  he 
might,  he  did  not  quite  succeed  in  feeling 
proud  of  it. 

During  the  rest  of  the  evening  and  half  the 
night,  Tita  was  in  incessant  demand.  Men 
who  imagined  that  manliness  required  them 
to  take  a  cynical  view  of  women  stood  in 
groups  about  the  supper- table  and  raved  about 
her.  Even  upstairs  in  the  billiard-room,  where 
a  dozen  disenchanted  bachelors  in  the  thir 
ties  and  forties  were  lounging  and  discoursing 
social  ethics  over  fragrant  cigars,  it  was  frankly 
admitted  that  the  man  who  should  catch  her 
might  be  considered  a  lucky  dog.  A  foreign 
ambassador,  whose  acquaintance  the  Dimple- 
tons  had  made  at  Newport,  and  who  was  the 
great  light  of  the  evening,  put  the  stamp  of  his 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  133 

approval  upon  Tita,  and  thereby  made  it  "good 
form  "to  be  enthusiastic  about  her.  He  de 
clared  that  she  was  ravissante,  and  that  she 
would  be  sure  to  make  a  sensation  in  the  great 
salons  of  the  Old  World.  He  thereupon  danced  a 
dignified  quadrille  with  her,  and  came  near  mak 
ing  her  famous  by  kissing  her  hand  at  parting. 
Quintus,  who  had  been  roaming  from  room 
to  room  like  an  uneasy  ghost,  could  not  help 
perceiving  that  Tita's  party  was  a  success,  and 
that  she  herself  was  exciting  universal  admira 
tion.  This  was  exactly  the  situation  he  had 
dreamed  of  in  his  early  aspirations  for  her — 
she  feted  and  worshipped,  and  he  standing  by 
blissfully  enjoying  her  triumph — at  all  events, 
he  endeavored  to  persuade  himself  that  the 
latter  half  of  his  prophetic  hope  was  as  fully 
realized  as  the  former.  He  attributed  all  his 
present  discontent  to  the  trifling  episode  of  the 
dress-coat,  which,  he  thought,  had  somehow 
untuned  him  for  the  evening.  He  would  have 
entertained  a  perfect  contempt  for  himself  if 
he  had  been  forced  to  recognize  the  fact  that, 
so  far  from  being  that  unselfish  and  fatherly 

• 


134:  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

individual  which  he  had  fondly  imagined  him 
self  to  be,  he  was,  on  the  contrary,  at  the  pres 
ent  moment  in  a  rage  of  jealousy.  Every  one 
who  touched  Tita  or  whispered  a  flattering 
platitude  in  her  ear  became,  that  very  instant, 
his  natural  enemy,  and  he  began,  in  a  dim  and 
general  fashion,  to  cherish  murderous  designs 
against  him.  These  sleek,  well-tailored  young 
gentlemen  with  well-bred  smiles  and  well- 
trained  moustaches  became  positively  odious  to 
him,  and  he  would  have  liked,  on  philanthropic 
grounds,  to  exterminate  the  whole  species. 
What  empty  and  meaningless  lives  they  must 
lead!  and  what  vapid  thoughts  must  move 
within  their  well-trimmed  craniums !  Surely 
Tita  was  worthy  of  something  better  than  this 
shallow  and  frivolous  fate.  "Why  did  Miss 
Dimpleton,  who  had  herself  so  many  nobler 
interests,  exert  herself  to  make  Tita  value  the 
things  which  she  herself  professed  to  despise  ? 
To  be  sure,  he  had  himself  given  his  consent 
to  have  her  introduced  to  society,  and  as  this 
was  society,  it  was  evident  that  he  had  no  cause 
for  complaint. 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  135 

While  making  these  lugubrious  reflections, 
Bodill  had  been  seated  in  a  corner  of  the 
billiard-room,  smoking  and  listening  to  the 
intermittent  and  fragmentary  remarks  of  the 
players.  When  he  had  finished  his  cigar,  his 
uneasy  curiosity  about  Tita  prompted  him  to 
descend  once  more  to  the  first  floor,  whence  a 
subdued  hum  of  music  rose,  and  burst  into  sud 
den  distinctness  whenever  the  door  was  opened 
He  had  just  reached  the  first  landing  of  the 
stairs  when  he  was  suddenly  arrested  by  the 
sound  of  two  voices  talking  earnestly  together, 
and,  looking  down,  he  saw  Tita  and  Mr.  Dibble, 
engaged  in  a  hushed  but  excited  conversation. 

"I  tell  you,  it  is  impossible,  Mr.  Dibble," 
Tita  was  saying.  "  We  are  not  at  all  suited 
for  each  other ;  and  then  I  don't  love  you  at 
all  ;  so,  of  course,  it  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  But  I  love  you  enough  to  make  Up  for  it," 
persisted  Mr.  Dibble.  "  If  you  will  only  marry 
me,  I  am  willing  to  take  my  chances  after 
ward." 

Quintus,  who  had  made  his  shoes  creak 
loudly  at  every  step  he  took,  now  interrupted 


136  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

the  interview  and  passed  down  the  stairs.  Tita 
looked  up,  a  little  startled,  but  seeing  who  it 
was,  she  jumped  up  and  seized  his  arm  with 
something  of  her  old  vehemence. 

"  Oh,  Quint,"  she  said,  gazing  affectionately 
up  into  his  eyes,  "how  glad  I  am  that  I  have 
found  you !  Dear  Quint,  there  is  no  one  like 
you." 

In  her  joy  at  having  escaped  from  Mr.  Dib 
ble's  embarrassing  importunities,  she  felt  an 
irrational  impulse  to  embrace  Quintus,  as 
something  dear  and  familiar  amid  all  the  per 
plexing  novelties  which  surrounded  her.  In 
his  felicity  at  having  her  near  him,  he  quite 
forgot  to  answer,  and  before  they  reached  the 
ground  floor  they  were  joined  by  Miss  Dimple- 
ton,  who  was  making  a  visible  effort  to  be 
amiable.  Tita,  to  whom  Quintus's  silence  ap 
peared  enigmatical,  supposed  that  he  intended 
to  repel  her  and  ascribed  his  changed  conduct 
toward  her  to  the  increased  frequency,  of  late, 
of  the  Homeric  lucubrations.  Therefore,  with 
the  impulsiveness  which  characterized  all  her 
actions,  she  let  go  his  arm,  made  him  a  sweep- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  137 

ing  bow,  and  accepted  the  escort  of  a  downy- 
bearded  young  gentleman,  who,  with  a  card  in 
his  hand,  stood  expecting  her.  Quintus  open 
ed  his  eyes  wide  in  astonishment,  and  then 
looked  questioningly  at  his  hostess,  as  if  he 
hoped  that  she  would  offer  him  an  explanation. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  child?"  he 
asked,  finally. 

"  Tita  has  grown  very  capricious  of  late," 
answered  Miss  Jessie.  "  The  homage  and  in 
cessant  flatteries  of  her  many  admirers  have 
turned  her  head." 

"Poor  little  girl!"  said  Bodill,  compas 
sionately.  "  She  has  not  learned  yet  how  little 
those  things  are  worth." 

"  I  have — endeavored  to  teach  her,"  Miss 
Dimpleton  was  about  to  say,  but  then  she  re 
membered  that  that  was  not  strictly  true,  and 
she  dexterously  turned  the  half-uttered  phrase 
and  said  : 

"  I  have  frequently  regretted  her  suscepti 
bility  to  flattery." 

To  her  surprise,  Mr.  Bodill,  instead  of  look 
ing  shocked,  gave  a  low  laugh  as  he  said  : 


138  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

"To  think  of  little  Tita  being  courted  and 
wooed,  distributing  judicious  snubs  and  listen 
ing  to  tender  nonsense.  It  is  very  amusing." 

Mr.  Bodill  certainly  was  a  very  puzzling 
character,  thought  Miss  Jessie,  and  he  thought 
so  himself,  too,  as  he  remembered  how,  only  a 
moment  ago,  he  had  been  devoured  with  jeal 
ousy  of  Tita's  adorers,  and  had  been  well-nigh 
ready  to  join  their  ranks  himself.  But  the  note 
of  censure  in  Miss  Dimpleton's  voice  had 
aroused  all  his  old  paternal  tenderness,  and 
made  Tita  again  seem  the  child  that  needed 
his  protection. 


XV. 

IT  was  toward  tliree  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when  the  last  indefatigable  dancers  ceased  to 
whirl  in  a  ring,  when  the  ladies  ceased  to  wind 
through  the  fascinating  figures  of  the  German, 
and  the  musicians  ceased  to  perspire  over  their 
violoncello,  harp,  and  violins.  The  striped 
awning,  constructed  for  the  protection  of  deli 
cate  toilets,  proved  very  useful  to  the  depart 
ing  guests,  who  would  otherwise  have  been 
drenched  on  their  way  to  their  carriages.  For 
a  south-west  wind,  accompanied  with  rain  and 
sleet,  had  sprung  up  during  the  early  part  of 
the  night,  and  was  now  whirling  up  the  avenue, 
lashing  the  window-panes  and  pulling  vigor 
ously  at  the  few  exposed  shutters. 

Tita,  quite  exhausted  with  excitement  and 
the  incessant  motion,  had  just  retired  to  her 
room,  where  her  maid  was  engaged  in  taking 
down  and  combing  out  her  hair,  when  Miss 

139 


140  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

Dimplefcon  entered,  having  first  announced  her 
intention  with  a  knock. 

"  Margaret,"  she  said  to  the  maid,  "  leave  us 
for  a  few  moments." 

She  seated  herself  with  her  usual  deliberate- 
ness  in  a  pink  satin  easy-chair  (which  seemed 
created  for  lotus-eating),  pulled  off  her  slippers 
(which  were  not  created  for  walking),  and  as 
a  preliminary,  let  her  eyes  wander  about  the 
luxuriously  furnished  apartment. 

"Tita,"  she  said  at  last,  rubbing  her  feet 
over  the  delicious  nap  of  the  tiger  rug,  "  tell 
me  now,  honestly,  whether  you  have  any  in 
tention  of  returning  to  your  former  mode  of 
life." 

Tita,  who  was  apparently  engaged  in  disen 
tangling  the  hearts  which,  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  had  got  caught  in  the  golden  meshes  of 
her  hair,  looked  up  with  a  startled  glance,  and 
was  for  a  moment  at  a  loss  for  an  answer. 

"I  have  a  very  particular  reason  for  asking,'* 
continued  Miss  Jessie.  "I  cannot  look  on 
with  indifference  when  I  see  you  coolly,  and 
almost  contemptuously,  rejecting  every  chance 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  141 

which  presents  itself  of  providing  for  your 
future,  and  gaining  an  established  position  in 
society." 

"  Mr.  Dibble  has  been  making  a  confidante  of 
you,  I  perceive,"  remarked  Tita,  with  a  hair 
pin  in  her  mouth,  and  letting  a  great  golden 
wave  roll  down  upon  her  bare  shoulder. 

"  It  matters  little  who  has  been  making  a 
confidante  of  me,"  retorted  the  other,  sharply. 
"  The  question  is,  what  you  really  mean  by 
such  unaccountable  behavior  ?" 

"  My  year  will  soon  be  up,"  said  Tita,  in 
specting  with  much  interest  the  ends  of  a  yel 
low  lock  which  apparently  had  some  mysteri 
ous  peculiarity,  invisible  to  the  uninitiated, 
"and  if  you  desire  it,  I  am  quite  willing  to 
take  my  leave  at  short  notice.  But  I  will  not 
submit  to  dictation  "  (here  the  yellow  lock  was 
dropped  and  forgotten)  "  from  any  one  in  re 
gard  to  my  choice  of  a  husband,  as  that  is  a 
question  which  really  concerns  no  one  but 
myself  and  the  unfortunate  man  who  is  rash 
enough  to  take  me." 

"It  was  not  my  intention  to  dictate,"  an- 


142  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

swered  Miss  Dimpleton ;  "  and  I  think  it  is 
very  ungenerous  in  you  to  suspect  me  of  such 
a  sordid  motive  as  you  have  just  implied.  I 
need  hardly  assure  you  that  we  shall  be  glad 
to  keep  you  here  as  long  as  you  are  willing  to 
stay.  If  I  presumed  to  offer  my  advice  in  the 
question  you  refer  to,  it  was  only  because,  in 
such  a  matter,  I  distrust  your  judgment,  and 
that  of  any  one  of  your  age,  and  imagine  that 
my  own  knowledge  of  the  world  might  be  of 
some  use  to  you." 

Poor  soft-hearted  Tita  felt  immediately  re 
morseful.  She  had  been  ungenerous  ;  but  it 
was  only  because  she  was  so  horribly  tired 
that  she  could  not  think  one  rational,  far  less 
a  generous,  thought.  IE  Miss  Jessie  would  only 
forgive  her,  she  would  listen  calmly  and  col 
lectedly  to  all  the  matrimonial  suggestions  she 
might  have  to  offer,  although  she  would  not 
promise  beforehand  that  she  would  act  on  all 
of  them. 

"  But  husbands  are  such  peculiar  creatures, 
you  know,"  she  said,  trying  to  coax  her  com 
panion  out  of  her  severe  mood.  "I  never  could 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  143 

imagine  what  I  should  do  with  one.  I  don't 
dislike  Mr.  Dibble  now;  but  if  I  couldn't  escape 
from  his  society  at  pleasure,  I  know  I  should 
not  be  able  to  endure  him." 

"  Tita,  you  are  incorrigible,"  said  Miss  Jes 
sie,  relaxing  a  little  from  her  rigid  gravity. 
"  What  is  ever  to  become  of  you,  if  you  persist 
in  taking  a  humorous  view  of  every  man  who 
approaches  you?" 

"But,  to  be  honest,  now,  don't  you  think 
yourself  that  men  are  ridiculous,  always,  of 
course,  excepting  Quint?" 

The  question  was  asked  with  such  evident 
sincerity  that  it  certainly  deserved  a  sincere 
answer  ;  but  Miss  Jessie,  for  reasons  sufficient 
to  herself,  could  not  very  well  express  her  cor 
dial  agreement  with  Tita's  sentiments,  and  as 
she  was  strictly  conscientious  when  a  direct 
question  of  right  and  wrong  was  at  issue,  she 
resorted  to  her  inconvenient  habit  of  silence. 
Tita  felt  once  more  rebuffed,  and  resumed  her 
occupation  with  her  hair. 

"What  I  came  to  ask  you,"  began  Miss  Dim 
ple  ton,  after  having  gazed  for  a  while  into  the 


144  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

fire  in  the  grate,  "  is  whether  your  refusal  of 
Mr.  Dibble  is  really  final?  As  you  know,  he  is 
a  man  of  great  wealth  and  of  irreproachable 
character.  He  would  treat  you  well,  supply 
lavishly  all  your  wants,  and  undoubtedly  make 
you  as  happy  as  women  have  any  right  to  as 
pire  to  be." 

Tita  looked  absently  at  the  reflection  of  her 
beautiful  self  in  the  glass,  then  flung  herself 
back  in  the  chair  and  contemplated  the  fres 
coed  Cupids  in  the  ceiling. 

"  I  am  so  tired,  so  very  tired,"  she  sighed. 
""Why  do  you  insist  upon  tormenting  me  at 
this  unearthly  hour  ?  " 

"Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  have 
not  made  up  your  mind  definitely  ?  " 

"  No,  you  are  not  to  understand  that.  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  once  for  all.  You  look  upon 
marriage  from  a  different  point  of  view  from 
what  I  do.  Quint  says  that  marriage  is  in 
tended  to  bind  two  people  more  closely  to 
gether  who  love  each  other  dearly.  But  I  do 
not  love  Mr.  Dibble,  and  I  never  shall  love 
him." 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  145 

"Mr.  Bodill  is  an  impractical  enthusiast, 
whose  advice  in  such  a  matter  it  would  be 
very  unsafe  to  follow." 

Tita  sprang  up  as  if  something  had  stung 
her.  The  least  implication  of  disrespect  to 
Quintus  always  roused  her  as  nothing  else. 

"No,"  she  cried,  "Quint  is  not  an  imprac 
tical  enthusiast ;  and  his  advice  is  always  good 
and  noble  as  he  is  himself." 

On  Miss  Jessie  this  violent  partisanship  for 
Bodill  had  at  this  moment  a  very  irritating 
effect.  It  proved  to  her  that  all  her  labor  had 
been  in  vain.  And  was  she,  who  had  been  ac 
customed  nearly  from  her  cradle  to  rule,  who 
felt  herself  the  intellectual  equal  of  the  first 
men  in  the  city,  was  she  to  be  thwarted  in  her 
carefully  laid  plans  by  the  caprices  of  this  in 
significant  doll  of  a  girl  ?  Her  first  line  of  tac 
tics  had  failed,  but  she  had  another  in  reserve. 

"  Have  you  ever  reflected,  Tita,"  she  said, 
after  another  long  pause,  "  upon  your  position 
as  an  inmate  of  Mr.  Bodill's  house?  You  are 
no  longer  a  child,  but  a  grown-up  woman,  and 

as  such  you  can  hardly,  for  your  own  sake,  con- 
10 


146  QUEEN  TITANIA. 


tinue  to  live  on  such  familiar  terms  with  a 
young  bachelor  of  thirty-one  or  two.  He  is 
not  your  father  nor  your  brother,  and  the  world 
will  naturally  ask,  'What  is  your  relation  to 
him  ?  '  And,  for  your  own  sake,  as  well  as  for 
his,  you  must  heed  what  the  world  says." 

A  sweetly  perplexed  look  had  settled  upon 
Tita's  features  as  Miss  Dimpleton  commenced 
this  speech,  but  gradually  she  grew  pale,  and 
suddenly  grasped  at  the  back  of  the  chair  for 
support. 

"  I  don't  understand — what  you  mean,"  she 
gasped,  and  in  the  next  instant  looked  as  if  a 
scarlet  veil  had  been  flung  over  her  face. 

"  I  mean,"  Miss  Jessie  went  on,  pitilessly, 
"that  your  remaining  with  Mr.  Bodill  or  re 
turning  to  him  is  an  impossibility.  You  may 
not  have  been  aware  what  an  amount  of  trouble 
you  already  have  caused  him.  When  he  was 
discharged,  or,  if  you  choose,  was  forced  to  re 
sign  his  position  in  my  father's  firm,  it  was  on 
your  account.  We  had  been  told  that  you  were 
his  daughter,  and  as  he  had  informed  me  that 
he  was  not  married  and  never  had  been,  my 


QUEEN  TITANIA-  147 

father  naturally  took  offence.  The  situation 
is  now  no  better.  In  fact,  it  is  worse.  Who 
knows  who  you  are  ?  You  do  not  know  your 
self  who  was  your  father,  and  still  you  royally 
reject  one  of  the  best  matches  in  New  York. 

You  think " 

Miss  Jessie  had  wrought  herself  into  a 
frenzy  of  eloquence ;  she  hardly  meant  to  be 
as  cruel  as  she  was,  but  she  was  determined  to 
bring  out  her  last  reserves  and  to  use  her 
heaviest  artillery.  But  while  she  was  yet  in 
the  midst  of  her  tirade,  something  half  a  sob 
and  half  a  stifled  groan  burst  from  Tita's 
bosom,  and  flinging  her  arms  above  her  head, 
she  rushed  toward  the  door  and  was  gone. 
Miss  Dimpleton,  eager  to  finish  her  arraign 
ment,  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  expecting  that 
she  would  presently  return  ;  but  a  minute  or 
more  passed,  and  a  current  of  cold  air  swept 
up  through  the  halls  and  shook  the  doors. 
The  windows,  too,  rattled  sympathetically,  and 
the  pictures  moved  on  the  wall.  Just  then 
the  wind  drove  the  rain  against  the  large 
panes  with  a  sound  as  of  a  handful  of  pebbles ; 


148  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

Miss  Dimpleton  shivered.  More  minutes 
passed;  the  bronze  clock  sounded  four  dis 
tinct,  melodious  strokes.  Miss  Dimpleton  rose 
and  rang  for  the  maid. 

"How  cold  it  is,"  she  said.  "Is  anything 
the  matter  with  the  furnace  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  maid,  "but  the  front 
door  was  open.  I  just  closed  it." 

Then  the  truth  flashed  upon  her ;  she  heard 
for  a  moment  only  the  blood  pulsing  in  her 
ears,  and  that  vague  oppression  which  follows 
the  first  consciousness  of  a  calamity  stole  over 
her. 

"  Call  father  quickly,"  she  said,  as  soon  as 
she  could  catch  her  breath,  "and  order  the 
horses." 


XVI. 

TITA  had  acted  under  an  impulse  too  strong 
to  admit  of  reflection.  She  felt  outraged  and 
insulted  by  the  suspicion  cast  upon  her  birth, 
and  still  more  by  the  cruel  insinuation  which, 
in  her  innocence,  had  never  once  occurred  to 
her.  She  had  always  been  with  Quintus,  and 
it  was  proper  and  natural  that  she  should  be 
with  no  one  but  Quintus.  Heedless  of  her  at 
tire,  she  had  hastened  down  the  stairs  and  out 
through  the  door,  desiring  only  to  hide  her 
self,  to  escape  humiliation,  to  get  as  far  away 
as  possible  from  Miss  Dimpleton,  who  could 
think  such  base  thoughts  and  inflict  deep 
wounds  so  pitilessly.  She  had  not  even  re 
membered  the  rain,  nor  had  she  thought 
where  she  was  going.  It  was  not  until  she 
was  several  blocks  away,  and  the  driving  sleet 
had  benumbed  the  tender  skin  of  her  neck  and 
face,  that  she  slackened  her  speed  and  began 
to  consider  whither  her  feet  were  carrying  her. 

149 


150  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

To  go  back  to  Quint — that  was  out  of  the 
question.  Had  she  not  been  a  perpetual  bur 
den  to  him  from  the  hour  when  he  first 
pressed  her  to  his  warm  and  faithful  heart? 
But  where  could  she  go,  if  she  did  not  go  to 
Quintus?  He  was  her  only  friend,  her  only 
comfort  and  refuge  in  all  the  wide  world. 

The  wind  boomed  through  the  long  solitary 
streets,  and  the  little  satin  slippers  were  soon 
as  wet  as  so  much  paper.  Her  costly  gar 
ments  swept  over  the  muddy  sidewalks,  and 
having  become  thoroughly  drenched,  clogged 
her  limbs  in  their  flurried  and  precipitate 
motion.  Her  hair  felt  like  a  cold  wet  lump  on 
her  neck,  and  sent  repeated  shuddering  chills 
through  her  frame.  Her  step,  too,  was  be 
coming  feebler,  and  though  she  bore  up  brave 
ly,  she  knew  that  her  strength  would  soon  be 
exhausted.  It  was  a  dim  consciousness  of  this 
which  arrested  her  flight.  She  leaned  against 
a  lamp-post  for  support,  and  gazed  up  at  the 
great  dark  front  of  a  fine  residence,  where  only 
a  single  room  was  lighted.  She  suddenly  rec 
ognized  the  house — it  was  Mr.  Dibble's.  It 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  151 

was  only  two  weeks  since  she  was  there  at  a 
luncheon  party  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dimpleton. 
As  she  stood  there,  numb  and  ready  to  faint 
with  weariness,  the  demon  woke  in  Tita's 
heart,  and  she  could  not  but  listen  to  the 
thoughts  which  he  whispered  to  her.  Was 
not  comfort  like  this — soft,  warm,  and  luxuri 
ous — worth  all  the  abstractions  of  love,  honor, 
and  duty?  Who  would  blame  her  if,  from 
mere  powerlessness  to  resist  any  longer,  she 
yielded  to  the  importunities  of  her  adorer,  and 
satisfied  herself  with  the  common  sordid  lot  of 
common  sordid  humanity?  She  was  a  very 
small  woman,  and  a  colossal  heroism  could 
hardly  be  expected  of  her.  There  was  evi 
dently  nothing  for  her  to  do  but  to  return  to 
Miss  Dimpleton  and  meekly  beg  her  pardon 
for  the  commotion  she  had  occasioned. 

Out  of  the  depths  of  darkness  came  the 
sound  of  chimes,  striking  the  quarter  hour. 
By  some  strange  association  of  sound  or 
thought,  this  clear,  mellow  tone  brought  up 
Quintus's  face  vividly  before  her ;  and  a  rush 
of  feeling,  quite  as  indefinable,  brought  back 


152  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

the  sweet  memories  which  that  face  suggested. 
She  remembered  what  he  had  taught  her,  year 
after  year,  through  the  long  winter  nights,  and 
she  yearned  with  all  her  soul  to  throw  herself 
upon  his  neck  and  weep  repentant  tears  upon 
his  bosom.  The  temptation  to  go  back  to  her 
recent  life  was  gone  ;  and  turning  her  face 
resolutely  away  from  the  house,  she  gathered 
her  strength  and  trudged  on.  Farther  down 
the  avenue  she  found  an  empty  cab,  and  or 
dered  the  driver  to  take  her  at  once  to  Jersey 
City. 

About  this  time  Miss  Dimpleton  and  her 
father  were  also  driving  through  the  storm 
and  the  darkness,  and,  after  a  vain  search, 
went  to  police  he  ad- quarters  and  gave  notice 
of  Tita's  disappearance. 

On  his  return  home  from  the  Dimpleton 
party,  Quintus  had  found  a  fire  drowsing  in 
the  fire-place  in  his  study,  and,  thinking  that 
it  was  a  pity  to  have  it  waste  its  genial  warmth, 
he  had  seated  himself  in  his  accustomed  chair 
and  taken  down  a  volume  of  Emerson  contain 
ing  the  essay  on  Fate.  This  Olympic  medi- 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  153 

tation  had  never  yet  failed  to  inspire  him  with 
a  sense  of  serene  superiority  to  all  the  petty 
annoyances  of  life,  which  not  even  a  transcen 
dental  philosopher  can  escape.  From  the 
upper  ether  of  his  Emersonian  mood,  where 
the  large  expanses  of  time  and  space  spread 
out  gloriously  around  him,  he  could  view  even 
his  love  for  Tita  as  an  affair  of  small  moment, 
which  would  not  perceptibly  affect  the  destiny 
of  the  race,  and  which  in  a  hundred  years 
would  presumably  be  forgotten.  The  agitation 
of  the  ball  was  still  tingling  in  his  nerves,  de 
tached  bits  of  Strauss  waltzes  were  humming 
in  his  brain,  and  the  pang  of  jealousy  was  yet 
nestling,  like  a  dull  pain,  somewhere  about  his 
heart-roots.  But  the  mighty  thoughts  of  the 
sage,  like  solemn  organ-tones,  marched  through 
the  sounding  eternities,  on  either  hand,  and 
lifted  him  with  their  strong  upward  impulse. 
The  small  emotions  were  soothed  into  a 
troubled  calm,  and  life  seemed  once  more 
dignified  and  noble. 

While    Bodill  was    thus    holding   discourse 
with  the  universe,  he  seemed  distinctly  to  hear 


154  QUEEN  TITANIA. 

some  one  calling  his  name  ;  but,  as  lie  was 
frequently  subject  to  this  illusion,  and  some 
times  had  started  up  to  answer  when  no  one 
was  near,  he  only  turned  about  in  his  chair 
and  smiled  at  the  vividness  of  his  imagination. 

" if  limitation  is  power  that  shall  be," 

he  went  on  reading,  "  if  calamities,  oppositions, 
and  weights  are  means  and  wings " 

But  surely  that  was  the  sound  of  a  voice  in 
distress,  and  the  voice  was  familiar.  His  blood 
ran  cold  with  terror,  as  he  rushed  to  the  win 
dow  and  strove  to  raise  it.  His  strength  had 
almost  deserted  him.  With  a  second  effort, 
however,  he  succeeded.  The  blinding  sleet 
beat  against  his  face,  and  a  gust  of  wind  swept 
in  and  whirled  the  sparks  and  ashes  of  the  fire 
about  the  room.  Under  the  lamp-post  he  dis- 
cerned  dimly  a  woman,  who  was  gazing  up 
toward  his  window. 

"  Oh,  Quint,  Quint !  "  she  cried,  "  open  the 
door  quickly  !  It  is  I— Tita." 

Her  voice  broke  in  the  last  words  with  a 
pitiful  hoarseness  which  cut  him  to  the  heart. 
In  an  instant  he  was  down  the  stairs,  had  torn 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  155 

the  front  door  open,  and  clasped  the  trembling 
form  in  his  embrace.  Her  bare  arms  felt  like 
ice  as  they  clung  about  his  neck,  and  the  con 
gealed  sleet  hung  unmelted  in  her  hair.  She 
made  no  attempt  to  speak,  but  lay  listless  in 
his  arms,  as  he  bore  her  up  the  creaking  stairs 
and  entered  the  old,  well-known  study.  But, 
as  he  placed  her  upon  the  lounge  and  pushed 
it  up  before  the  fire,  she  drew  his  head  close 
down  to  her  mouth,  and  whispered  : 

"I  will  never  leave  you  again,  Quint — 
never!" 

"No,  my  darling,"  he  answered,  fervently, 
"never!" 


XYII. 

TITA  lay  ill  for  a  long,  long  time,  and  her  life 
was  often  despaired  of.  It  was  not  until  the 
spring  was  well  advanced  that  the  color  began 
to  return  to  her  cheeks  ;  then  the  old  merry 
sparkle  was  again  kindled  in  her  eyes,  though 
at  first  feebly  and  pathetically  flickering,  and 
the  old  hearty  ring  sometimes  stole  into  her 
laughter.  At  the  least  such  sign  of  reviving 
strength,  Quint's  face  would  beam  as  he  sat 
drawing  meditative  little  puffs  from  the  glow 
ing  depths  of  the  Eastern  Question.  It  was 
one  evening  while  they  were  thus  seated  to 
gether  before  the  fire,  she  occupied  with  some 
feminine  handiwork,  and  he  reading  aloud 
from  Browning,  that  an  incident  of  vital  im 
portance  to  both  occurred.  The  poem  which 
jwas  engaging  Quintus's  attention,  and  which 
he  stopped  every  now  and  then  to  discuss  with 
Tita,  was  appropriately  entitled  "  By  the  Fire- 

156 


QUEEN  TITANIA.  157 

side,"  and  in  it  was  a  stanza  which  moved  him 
deeply  : 

"  Oh,  I  must  feel  your  brain  prompt  mine, 

Your  heart  anticipate  my  heart, 
You  must  be  just  before,  in  fine, 

See  and  make  me  see,  for  your  part, 
New  depths  of  the  Divine." 

"Now,  that  is  my  idea  of  what  a 'marriage 
should  be,"  said  Quint,  putting  the  book  face 
downward,  on  his  knee. 

"It  is  very  beautiful,"  remarked  Tita,  with 
out  looking  up. 

"  But  there  is  only  one  heart,"  he  went  on, 
quite  naturally,  "  which  could  anticipate  mine, 
and  one  sweet  face  which  is  to  me  a  daily  reve 
lation  of  the  Divine." 

"  I  can't  imagine  what  face  that  can  be," 
observed  Tita,  looking  up  with  roguish,  tear- 
filled  eyes. 

"  But  I  can,"  cried  Quint,  taking  the  face  in 
question  between  his  palms,  and  gazing  ardent 
ly  at  it  "  Tita,  dear,  why  should  we  hesitate 
to  take  the  step  which  will  prevent  our  ever 
being  parted  again  ?  " 

Tita  smiled.     She  could  not  see  why. 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 


THE  cataract  hummed  a  strong,  steady  under 
tone,  and  the  lighter  summer  sounds — the  whir 
of  the  locust  and  the  warble  of  thrushes  and 
linnets — rose  fitfully  and  vanished  against  the 
heavy  background  like  sun-flushed  mists  011  a 
dark  sky.  The  river,  which  flowed  white  and 
strong  in  the  deep,  sang  strangely  toward 
night,  and  followed  you  like  an  unconscious 
melody,  wherever  you  went.  But  if  you  stop 
ped  to  listen  to  its  voice,  the  melody  vanished 
and  you  heard  nothing  but  a  vague,  tumultuous 
brawl.  The  wind,  too,  sang  in  the  tree-tops  ; 
and  in  the  grass  there  was  a  soft,  unceasing 
whisper  which  was  strangely  alluring  and 
sweet.  From  everywhere  sounds  seemed  to  be 
oozing  forth  gently,  dancing  in  the  daylight  and 
H  161  ' 


162  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

vanishing.  The  vault  of  the  sky  seemed  a  vast 
ocean  of  sound. 

"It  is  strange,  father,  isn't  it?"  murmured 
Ingolf,  looking  toward  his  father  with  a  face 
singularly  lighted  up  from  within,  and  eager 
for  sympathy.  He  was  a  blonde-haired  lad  of 
about  sixteen,  with  large  lustrous  eyes,  and  a 
timid  or  tentative  smile  playing  about  his  lips. 

"  What  is  strange  ?  "  asked  his  father,  gruffly. 

"  The  melodies  in  the  air — and — and  in  the 
grass,"  answered  the  boy.  His  voice  grew  fee 
bler  and,  as  it  were,  apologetic  as  he  spoke, 
and  he  finished  in  a  tremulous*  whisper.  He 
looked  unhappy  and  seemed  to  regret  having 
spoken. 

"  I  hear  no  melodies,"  said  the  father  with  a 
vindictive  emphasis,  taking  his  clay  pipe  out  of 
his  mouth,  and  spitting  with  angry  energy. 

The  boy  sighed  and  was  silent.  With  un- 
averted  eyes  he  sat  staring  at  the  western 
mountain  chain,  which  rose  like  a  huge  wall 
tracing  its  dark  outline  sharply  against  the 
sky.  The  same  strange  illumination  again 
broke  over  his  countenance,  as  if  a  lamp  had 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  1G3 

been  lighted  within,  shimmering  through  the 
translucent  surface.  His  father  gazed  at  him 
with  ill-concealed  vexation,  but  gradually  his 
wrath  changed  into  sadness. 

"What  is  it  now,  you  miserable  boy?"  he 
exclaimed,  shaking  his  head  mournfully.  "  What 
are  you  hearing  now  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  mountain's  face,"  cried  the  boy 
joyously.  "  I  have  seen  it  ever  since  I  was  a 
small  boy,  but  I  have  never  spoken  of  it,  be 
cause  I  was  afraid  you  would  be  angry.  But 
surely,  father,  you  cannot  help  seeing  it  now. 
It  is  so  large  and  beautiful." 

The  father  strained  his  eyes  and  stared  for 
some  moments,  earnestly,  at  the  mountains 
which  rose  black  and  threatening  against  the 
glory  of  the  sunset. 

"There,  there,  father,"  ejaculated  Ingolf, 
pointing  excitedly  toward  the  western  sky. 
"  Just  follow  the  direction  of  my  finger !  There 
you  see  the  beautiful  brow ;  it  is  that  of  a  wo 
man  reclining.  Sometimes  she  seems  to  be 
dead ;  sometimes  only  lightly  asleep.  To-night 
she  sleeps  with  her  hands  folded  upon  her 


164  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

breast;  then  follow  the  outline  northward — 
the  nose,  slightly  curved ;  the  chin,  pure  and 
rounded ;  the  bosom ;  the  folded  hands  and 
then  a  long  stretch  for  the  limbs ;  and  at  last, 
far  away,  the  upturned  feet.  You  cannot  help 
seeing  it ;  it  is  all  so  plain  and  so  beautiful." 

With  a  puzzled  look  old  Guldbrand  followed 
the  direction  of  the  boy's  finger,  and  evidently 
made  an  honest  effort  to  comprehend  him.  But 
at  last  he  gave  an  impatient  toss  of  his  head 
and  said : 

"  There  is  no  face  there,  you  lunatic  !  And 
there  you  stand  and  dare  to  make  a  fool  of 
your  father.  I  will  teach  you  to  try  that 
again." 

With  this  warning  he  gave  the  astonished 
boy  a  box  on  the  ear  which  felled  him  to  the 
ground.  For  the  old  man  was  strong,  and  his 
wrath  was  not  to  be  trifled  with. 

"  Get  up,"  he  cried,  as  the  boy  made  no  mo 
tion  to  rise.  But  the  son  did  not  stir. 

"  Get  up,  I  say,"  roared  the  father  a  second 
time,  lifting  the  lad  by  the  shoulders  and 
placing  him  upon  his  feet.  But  as  he  met  his 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  165 

eye,  in  which  burned  for  a  moment  a  wild  pas 
sion  of  hate,  he  dropped  him  suddenly  and 
walked  into  the  house.  He  did  not  know  how 
grievously  he  had  wounded  him ;  he  did  not 
know  that  he  had  violated  his  holy  of  holies. 

Ingolf  did  not  weepi  as  he  lay  there  in  the 
grass.  "Wild  thoughts  wrestled  in  his  mind. 
An  hour  passed  and  the  dew  began  to  fall,  but 
he  did  not  stir.  The  sun  was  hidden,  but  its 
rays  still  slanted  through  the  upper  air  and 
spread  a  luminous  shimmer  downwards.  Then 
footsteps  were  heard,  and  Ingolf  felt  a  warm 
hand  upon  his  head.  He  looked  up  and  saw 
the  schoolmaster. 

"  It  is  damp  to  lie  in  the  grass  now,"  said  he, 
kindly. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is,"  answered  Ingolf. 

"  Things  have  gone  wrong,  I  perceive,"  re 
marked  the  schoolmaster  with  a  smile  which 
was  both  insinuating  and  sympathetic. 

"  So  they  have,"  said  the  boy,  raising  him 
self  on  his  elbows. 

"  And  I  don't  suppose  I  could  help  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  could — unless — unless —  " 


166  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

the  boy  hesitated,  gazing  intently  into  the 
schoolmaster's  wrinkled  and  kindly  face  ;  "  un 
less,"  he  continued,  "  you  could  tell  me  whether 
you  have  ever  seen  the  mountain  maiden." 

"  The  mountain  maiden  !  "  exclaimed  the 
schoolmaster  with  a  startled  look.  "No,  I 
never  saw  her." 

"  I  will  show  her  to  you,"  said  the  boy,  seiz 
ing  him  by  the  arm,  and  pointing  with  eager 
gestures  toward  the  chain  of  cliffs  that  dented 
the  western  horizon.  He  saw  himself,  plainly, 
the  beautiful  colossal  maiden,  outstretched  in 
her  strong  slumber,  and  his  eyes  hung  ex 
pectantly  upon  his  teacher's  face  as  if  implor 
ing  him  to  see  largely  and  clearly.  Old  Aslak, 
for  that  was  the  schoolmaster's  name,  adjusted 
his  spectacles,  three,  four  times  carefully  upon 
his  hooked  nose,  but  his  expression  grew  more 
puzzled  the  longer  he  looked. 

"You  see  nothing?"  queried  the  boy  with 
tears  in  his  voice ;  "  you  cannot  see  the  moun 
tain  maiden  ?  " 

"  No,  my  boy,  no,"  said  the  schoolmaster ; 
"  there  is  nothing  there  to  see  except  a  jagged 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  167 

chain  of  rocks  ;  and  any  one  who  says  he  sees 
anything  else  is  a  fool  or  a  loon.  Have  I  not 
for  seven-and-twenty  years  taught  the  youth 
of  this  valley  their  ABC,  and  the  elements  of 
the  Christian  faith  as  they  are  expounded  in 
Dr.  Martin  Luther's  little  catechism  ?  There 
is  no  one  in  the  parish  who  knows  more  than 
I  do,  except  the  parson ;  and  unless  he  sees 
your  mountain  maiden,  I  will  swear  that  she  is 
a  phantasm  of  your  own  confused  brain." 


II. 


ABOUT  a  month  later,  when  the  wheat  was 
ripe,  Ingolf  was  standing  in  the  harvest  field 
which  was  near  to  the  highway.  He  had 
thrown  his  scythe  upon  the  ground,  and  he 
held  in  his  hand  a  blue  corn-flower  and  a  sprig 
of  a  weed  which  in  Norway  is  called  the  wild 
mustard.  Just  at  that  moment  the  parson 
passed  by.  He  was  a  stout  and  pompous  man, 
who  preached  the  crucifying  of  the  flesh,  but 
himself  cared  much  for  the  good  things  of  this 
world.  Eecognizing  the  handsome  boy  in  the 
field  he  stopped  and  called  him  by  name. 

"  What  is  that  you  are  gazing  at  so  intently, 
my  lad  ?  "  asked  he  in  a  voice  that  rang  from 
mountain  to  mountain. 

Ingolf  started  and  looked  up  blushing,  as  if 
he  had  been  caught  doing  something  wrong. 

"  O,  I  have  so  many  strange  thoughts,"  he 
murmured,  in  confusion. 

"  Well,  let  us  hear  your  strange  thoughts," 

168 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  1G9 

said  the  parson  cheerily,  stepping  across  the 
ditch  and  walking  close  up  to  the  boy. 

"  I  was  thinking — I  was  wondering,"  stam 
mered  Ingolf,  "  what  kind  of  weeds  the  tares 
were  which  the  enemy  sowed  in  the  wheat 
field,  while  the  husbandmen  were  asleep.  I 
have  noticed  that  the  corn-flower  and  the  wild 
mustard  always  grow  in  wheat  fields,  but  I 
have  never  noticed  any  other  weed  in  great 
numbers,  except  the  poppy.  Could  it  be  pos 
sible  that  these  pretty  flowers  have  been  sown 
by  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  The  Scriptures  say  that  the  enemy  sowed 
tares,"  said  the  parson  solemnly. 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  tares  are ;  I  sup 
posed  it  meant  a  weed." 

The  parson  stood  for  a  moment  pondering ; 
he  had  preached  at  least  twenty  times  on  the 
parable  of  the  tares  among  the  wheat,  but  it  had 
never  occurred  to  him  to  associate  any  plant  of 
definite  form  and  color  with  the  Biblical  weed. 

"  You  should  not  inquire  into  those  things 
which  the  Lord  has  hidden  from  us,"  he  re 
marked,  gravely. 


170  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

"  But  why  should  the  Lord  hide  from  us  so 
many  things  which  it  would  benefit  us  to 
know  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  innocently. 

"  Child,  child ! "  exclaimed  the  clergyman, 
"  the  enemy  has  been  sowing  his  tares  in  your 
own  mind.  These  wicked  thoughts,  this  spirit 
of  self-righteousness,  this  questioning  the  wis 
dom  of  God  and  of  God-given  authorities, 
these  are  the  most  dangerous  tares  that  flour 
ish  in  the  fields  of  youthful  minds  at  the  pres 
ent  day.  Therefore,  if  you  would  have  His 
good  wheat  thrive  and  grow  fertile  in  your 
soul,  cease  questioning,  and  believe." 

The  boy  was  completely  overawed.  He 
dropped  the  flowers  reluctantly  and  seized  the 
scythe. 

"  That  is  right,"  cried  the  parson ;  "  work 
and  pray  that  ye  fall  not  into  temptation.  In 
the  sweat  of  thy  brow  shalt  thou  eat  thy  bread. 
"Work  is  the  right  antidote  against  dangerous 
thoughts." 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  was  about  to 
continue  his  walk  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  the 
pretty  corn-flowers.  With  much  difficulty  he 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  171 

stooped  and  began  to  pick  them  up.  Their 
vivid  color  and  singular  shape  interested  him. 
"  These  do  not  grow  in  Palestine,"  he  mut 
tered,  as  if  speaking  to  himself;  "and  the 
tares  certainly  must  have  been  an  Asiatic 
weed." 

Ingolf  paused  in  his  work  and  listened  again 
eagerly.  He  had  a  bright  and  easily  impressi 
ble  mind,  in  which  joy  and  pain  followed  each 
other  in  quick  succession.  At  the  pastor's 
words  his  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure. 

"  What  is  it  now  which  excites  you  ?  "  quer 
ied  the  minister,  somewhat  impatiently. 

"  Oh,  it  pleased  me  to  know,"  answered  the 
boy,  half  bashfully,  "  that  the  Lord  is  not 
stern  enough  to  throw  these  bright  flowers 
into  the  fire  on  the  last  day." 

"  You  foolish  boy,  you  foolish  boy,"  said  the 
parson  in  a  gentler  mood,  patting  him  softly 
on  the  shoulder.  "  The  Lord  is  terrible  only 
to  sinners  and  idlers  who  speculate  instead  of 
following  his  command  to  Adam,  which  I  have 
just  quoted  to  you.  It  is  those  who  are  meant 
by  the  tares  which  are  to  be  cast  into  the  fire." 


172  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

This  friendly  didactic  tone  was  so  encour 
aging  that  the  desire  arose  in  Ingolf's  mind  to 
submit  to  the  pastor's  decision  the  one  ever- 
present  thought  which  haunted  him.  If  the 
pastor,  who  was  the  wisest  man  in  the  parish, 
could  not  see  the  mountain  maiden,  then  it 
was  evident  that  the  schoolmaster  was  right, 
that  the  large,  placid  image  was  but  a  delusion 
of  his  disordered  brain.  But  as  he  looked 
toward  the  mountains  and  saw  the  beautiful 
genius  of  his  life  outstretched  in  majestic  re 
pose,  he  prayed  earnestly  that  the  Lord  would 
open  the  pastor's  eyes,  so  that  he  might  be 
able  to  see  the  mountain  maiden.  His  heart 
beat  violently,  as  he  approached  the  minister 
with  his  eyes  fixed  imploringly  upon  his  face, 
and  the  momentous  question  trembled  upon 
his  lips. 

"Mr.  Pastor,"  he  began — but  his  voice 
shook  and  the  tears  nearly  choked  him — "  Mr. 
Pastor,  can  you  see  the  mountain  maiden  ?  " 

"The  mountain  maiden?"  cried  the  pastor 
in  visible  alarm. 

"  Yes ;   the  great  stone  face  now  looming 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  173 

against  the  sunset  and  the  beautiful  bosom 
and  the  folded  hands?" 

The  tears  now  burst  forth  and  he  flung  him 
self  down  in  the  stubble,  crying  with  a  piteous 
voice  :  "  Oh,  you  cannot  see  her,  you  cannot 
see  her  ?  " 

"  The  boy  is  mad,"  grumbled  the  pastor,  as 
he  walked  back  to  the  highway  ;  "  I  certainly 
must  speak  to  his  father." 


III. 


THEEE  days  passed  during  which  Ingolf 
never  once  looked  toward  the  mountain  mai 
den.  When  the  longing  drew  him  he  turned 
his  head  resolutely  away  and  whistled  wildly 
in  order  to  divert  his  thoughts.  The  dread  of 
insanity  stood  constantly  at  his  mind's  door 
and  knocked  unceasingly,  demanding  admit 
tance.  But  he  fought  it  off  with  the  strength 
of  despair,  and  wept  and  prayed  with  a  frantic 
energy.  And  yet  the  very  moment  his  soul 
rebounded  into  its  natural  attitude  he  saw  in 
spirit  the  colossal  maiden  sleeping  under  the 
spacious  sky.  No  force  of  prayer  or  tears 
could  obliterate  her  image  from  his  mind : 
even  though  he  might  persuade  himself  that 
she  had  no  existence,  since  so  wise  and  pious 
a  man  as  the  parson  had  failed  to  see  her,  his 
memory  still  protested  against  the  enforced 

belief. 

174 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  175 

In  the  heat  of  his  conflict  Ingolf  had  sought 
refuge  in  the  birch  grove,  about  a  mile  from 
the  house.  There  he  sat  upon  a  large  moss- 
grown  stone  and  saw  the  sunshine  quiver  in 
the  air,  and  heard  the  whirring  of  the  crickets 
in  the  grass.  A  terrible  desire  had  taken  pos 
session  of  him  to  look  but  once  more  west 
ward — only  once  more — and  exchange  a  fare 
well  greeting  with  the  mountain  maiden.  The 
desire  pursued  him,  and  he  had  to  press  his 
face  down  into  the  moss  in  order  to  resist  it. 
It  seemed  to  him  a  temptation  of  the  evil  one, 
and  the  beautiful  stone  maiden  became  an  im 
age  of  dread,  associated  in  some  inexplicable 
manner  with  evil  powers  which  strove  to  lead 
him  away  from  God.  But,  for  all  that,  she 
was  no  less  tempting,  no  less  beautiful.  With 
a  wild,  unthinking  energy,  only  to  keep  the 
tempter  at  bay,  he  repeated  "Our  Father," 
and  his  young  voice  sounded  strangely  amid 
the  bird  song  and  the  whisper  of  the  wind  in 
the  tree-tops;  but  gradually  the  voice  grew 
fainter,  and  the  whisper  of  the  wind  grew  into 
a  soft,  unceasing  song,  and  the  birds  and  the 


176  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

crickets  paused  to  listen.  There  was  a  great 
rushing  sound  under  the  heavens,  and  the 
mountain  maiden  opened  her  eyes  and  rose, 
large  and  beautiful,  looming  with  her  head  and 
her  ample  shoulders  into  the  clear,  sun-teem 
ing  sky.  Ingolf  forgot  to  pray,  and  gave  a 
loud,  joyous  shout  which  echoed  from  moun 
tain  to  mountain.  And  he  saw  her  walking 
grandly  over  the  earth,  and  the  tranquil  maj 
esty  of  her  face  was  inconceivable.  In  her 
hands,  which  he  now  for  the  first  time  saw  un 
folded,  she  held  a  common  stone,  a  clod  of 
earth,  a  bunch  of  fresh  grass,  and  a  snake, 
upon  whose  coiled  body  shone  in  golden  let 
ters  the  legend,  "  The  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil."  She  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  stooped 
down  over  the  boy  and  lifted  him  in  her  large 
arms  until  his  vision  soared  through  the  bound 
less  space,  and  he  breathed  an  air  that  was  in- 
toxicatingly  sweet  and  pure.  His  whole  being 
seemed  to  be  throbbing  with  joy ;  he  had  never 
been  so  happy  in  all  his  life.  She  bore  him 
toward  a  distant  mountain  and  placed  him 
upon  its  pinnacle,  whence  his  vision  had  a  full 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  177 

sweep  of  the  earth  and  the  sky.  There  she 
gave  him  the  handful  of  earth,  the  stone,  the 
blades  of  grass  and  the  snake,  saying,  "  Sing 
of  these."  But  when  she  turned  her  back,  and 
was  about  to  move  away,  he  clung  to  her  arm, 
crying,  "Oh,  stay  with  me!"  She  shook  her 
head,  and  answered,  "I  shall  return." 

A  harsh  scream  close  to  his  ear  brought  him 
to  his  feet.  He  was  still  in  the  birch  grove, 
and  the  crickets  were  singing  about  him ;  but 
a  hawk  was  sitting  upon  a  low  bough  of  the 
birch  under  which  he  had  been  lying,  and  the 
birds  were  silent.  He  stared  about  him  with 
dazed  eyes.  He  did  not  know  whether  he  had 
been  awake  or  dreaming. 

In  the  joy  of  this  memory  the  days  passed 
rapidly,  and  the  summer  drew  toward  its  end. 
The  English  and  American  tourists  who 
climbed  the  mountains  and  forded  the  seething 
rivers  during  the  warm  months  began  to  turn 
their  flight,  with  the  other  birds  of  passage, 
southward.  Then,  as  the  vision  faded,  and  the 
doubts  reasserted  themselves,  the  old  sorrow 

returned. 
12 


178  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

It  was  during  one  of  the  long,  sunny  days  of 
the  late  autumn  that  a  beautiful  lady  came  to 
the  farm  and  asked  if  she  could  get  a  change 
of  horses.  Her  carriage,  too,  was  slightly  out 
of  gear  and  needed  mending.  Ingolf  saw  her 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  lawn  before  the 
house,  and  he  gave  a  great  cry  and  flung  him 
self  at  her  feet.  She  stooped  down  over  him 
and  asked  him  in  a  kindly  voice  what  ailed 
him  ;  but  he  only  stared  with  a  wild  fascina 
tion  at  her  beautiful  face  and  gave  no  an 
swer. 

"  There  is  something  strange  in  this,"  she 
said,  smiling,  "  something  which  I  do  not 
understand.  Do  I  remind  you  of  any  one  who 
is  dear  to  you  ?  " 

Then  he  suddenly  found  his  voice,  and  an 
swered,  "  You  are  the  mountain  maiden  who 
promised  to  return  to  me." 

"  The  mountain  maiden  ?  "  she  repeated  with 
a  sweet,  musical  laugh.  "  Who  is  that  ?  " 

"  Look  ! "  he  said,  pointing  with  happy  con 
fidence  toward  the  western  mountain  chain, 
"  do  you  see  the  beautiful  face  gazing  against 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  179 

the  sky,  the  folded  hands,  the  large  bosom, 
and  the  feet?  It  is  yourself;  it  is  your 
face." 

She  gazed  for  a  moment  wonderingly,  and 
her  eyes  grew  grave,  almost  solemn. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said ;  "  I  see  your 
mountain  maiden ;  I  think  I  can  see  the  re 
semblance.  You  are  a  strange  boy,  but  I  like 
you.  Tell  me  something  about  yourself." 

He  seated  himself  on  the  grass,  and,  while 
she  waited,  sitting  under  the  drooping  birch- 
tree,  he  told  her  the  story  of  the  mountain 
maiden. 

"  Ah  ! "  she  exclaimed,  running  her  fingers 
caressingly  through  his  hair,  "  you  are  a  poet. 
You  see  what  commonplace  mortals  cannot 
see." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  mournfully,  "  I  know  I  am 
something  strange." 

"  And  we  will  make  you  something  great," 
she  said,  joyously.  "Your  trust  in  the  moun 
tain  maiden  shall  not  deceive  you.  Come  with 
me  to  the  city,  and  I  will  give  you  teachers 
and  show  you  the  great  world.  I'll  ask  your 


180  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

father  to  lend  you  to  me  for  twelve  years. 
Will  you  come?" 

"  I  will  follow  you  wherever  you  take  me," 
he  answered,  while  a  strange  radiance  spread 
over  his  countenance. 


IV. 


THE  twelve  years  passed,  and  a  great  poet 
appeared  in  the  North — a  poet  who  sang  of 
the  grand  creation's  chain;  of  the  earth  and 
her  teeming  life ;  of  the  vast  processes  of  her 
growth ;  of  the  reign  of  law  and  order  and  pro 
gress.  And  he  sang,  not  like  the  ancient  de- 
claimers,  who  saw  but  the  surface  of  things, 
but  as  one  having  deep  knowledge  as  well  as 
power.  Some  called  him  a  great  man  of  sci 
ence,  others  called  him  a  mighty  poet;  but 
others  again  called  him  the  enemy  of  mankind, 
the  ruthless  iconoclast,  the  Antichrist  concern 
ing  whom  John  had  prophesied  in  the  Apoca 
lypse.  But  the  nation  listened  to  him,  and  the 
lovers  of  liberty  over  the  whole  world  heard 
his  voice. 

It  was  on  the  very  day  when  the  twelfth 
year  was  at  an  end  that  Ingolf  and  his  foster- 
mother  arrived  in  the  valley ;  the  peasants  met 
them  with  music  and  speeches  at  the  railroad 

181 


182  THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE. 

station,  and  they  drove  in  state  to  the  old 
homestead  where  the  poet's  father,  the  pastor 
and  the  schoolmaster  stood  ready  to  receive 
them.  Old  Guldbrand  was  very  feeble,  and 
could  not  drive  to  the  station. 

"And  do  you  remember  twelve  years  ago," 
said  the  schoolmaster,  when  the  preliminary 
greetings  were  over,  "  how  you  used  to  talk  to 
me  about  the  mountain  maiden?" 

"Whom  you  could  not  see,"  said  Ingolf, 
laughing. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  cried  the  school 
master,  apparently  much  offended ;  "  I  saw  the 
mountain  image  as  plainly  as  I  do  you  at  this 
moment.  Why,  do  you  suppose  I  am  blind  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly,  it  is  as  plain  as  day,"  ejac 
ulated  the  pastor,  turning  his  rubicund  face  to 
ward  the  west  and  tracing  the  outline  of  the 
imposing  figure  with  his  forefinger.  "  I  always 
wondered  at  nature's  consistency  in  having 
conformed  so  accurately  to  the  human  form." 

"And  you,  too,  father;  do  you  see  it?"  asked 
Ingolf  in  amazement. 

"What  do  you  take  me  for,  son?"  asked  the 


THE  MOUNTAIN'S  FACE.  183 

old  man  with  an  incredulous  mien ;  "  why,  I 
never  remember  the  time  when  the  thing  wasn't 
perfectly  plain  to  me.  You  don't  suppose  I 
came  into  the  world  blind,  like  a  puppy?  " 

Ingolf  was  too  happy  to  make  a  bitter  reply ; 
and  yet  bitter  memories  rose  in  his  mind.  But 
his  foster-mother,  divining  his  thought,  drew 
him  gently  aside,  and  said  : 

"It  is  your  glory  that  these  men  imagine 
they  have  always  seen.  The  truth  is  no  man's 
property,  not  even  his  who  first  sees  it." 

"  You  are  right,  as  always,"  said  Ingolf,  kiss 
ing  his  foster-mother's  brow.  And  they  turned 
both,  as  with  one  accord,  toward  the  west, 
where  the  mountain  maiden  lay,  tracing  her 
grand  outline  against  the  sunset. 


A  DAISTGEEOUS  VIRTUE. 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 


THERE  was  a  great  commotion  down  on  the 
beach.  Eight  large  boats,  heavily  freighted 
with  boxes  and  chests,  were  lying  at  the  point 
of  the  pier.  The  oarsmen  were  already  in 
their  places,  lifting  their  dripping  oars,  and 
waiting  for  the  last  emigrants  to  embark.  Out 
in  the  middle  of  the  fiord  the  steam-boat  was 
puffing  and  rumbling  and  shrieking,  and  now 
and  then  sending  clouds  and  rings  of  steam  up 
against  the  spotless  blue  sky.  The  mountains, 
black  and  solid  at  the  base,  rose  through  a  hun 
dred  wondrous  gradations  of  color  and  light 
ness  to  a  height  where  their  granite  outlines 
seemed  to  dissolve  into  the  pale-green,  sun- 
steeped  ether.  Precipitate  brooklets  plunged 
down  their  sides,  and  traced  their  white  paths 

187 


188  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

of  foam  against  the  dark  stone  ;  but  they 
seemed  so  infinitely  remote,  and  their  voices 
were  lost  in  the  vast  calm  which  rested  upon 
earth  and  sky.  God's  hand  was  invisibly  out 
stretched  in  benediction  over  the  pure  and  per 
fect  day.  The  fiord,  reflecting  in  its  placid 
mirror  the  cool  depths  of  the  heavens,  shut  in 
on  all  sides  by  the  gigantic  mountain  peaks, 
shivered  now  and  then  into  trembling  undu 
lations  whenever  a  sea-bird  grazed  its  surface, 
and  broke  in  pleasant,  rhythmic  ripples  over 
the  white  sand. 

At  last  all  the  boats  were  filled  with  emi 
grants.  Only  one  belated  straggler  was  still 
standing  on  the  steps  leading  down  to  the  wat 
er,  gazing  with  tear-filled  eyes  into  the  face 
of  a  young  woman,  whose  hands  were  tightly 
clasped  in  his  own.  He  was  a  tall,  blonde  man 
of  athletic  build,  with  a  frank,  sun-burned 
face,  and  a  pair  of  deep-set,  serious  blue  eyes. 
There  was  an  expression  of  determination, 
perhaps  of  obstinacy,  in  his  roughly  hewn  fea 
tures,  and  yet  there  was  something  sweet  and 
tender  lurking  somewhere  under  the  rugged 


A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE.  189 

surface,  softening  the  harsh  effect  of  nature's 
hasty  workmanship. 

The  young  woman,  too,  was  tall  and  fair, 
and  of  fine  proportions;  her  face  was  round 
and  dimpled,  and  had  that  kind  of  rudimen 
tary  beauty  which  is  so  frequent  among  the 
Norse  peasantry.  She  had  a  baby  of  about  five 
months  old  strapped  over  her  back,  and  gazed 
every  now  and  then  over  her  shoulder,  when 
ever  the  pudgy  little  hands  in  their  aimless 
gesticulations  touched  her  ears  or  cheeks. 

"  You  will  be  sure  to  come  for  me  next  year, 
Anders,"  she  said,  bursting  into  a  fresh  fit  of 
weeping.  "  It  will  be  so  hard  for  me  to  be  left 
here  all  alone,  and  you  wandering  through  the 
world  without  me.  You  know  you  never  were 
a  good  hand  at  taking  care  of  yourself,  Anders. 
And  your  clothes  will  need  mending,  too.  Oh, 
dear  me,  what  will  you  do,  Anders,  without 
me?" 

"  It  will  be  hard  for  me  to  get  along  without 
you,  Gunhild,"  he  answered,  sadly.  "But  what 
should  I  do  with  you  and  the  baby,  as  long  as 
I  have  no  house  and  home  ?  The  first  year  in 


190  A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE. 

America  is  uncommonly  hard,  they  tell  me,  and 
I  would  rather  spare  you,  Gunhild,  and  take 
you  into  a  warm,  snug  home,  where  you  and 
the  baby  will  find  peace  and  comfort.  In  the 
meanwhile,  Thorkel  has  promised  to  take  care 
of  you  for  a  year,  and  if  I  do  not  come  myself 
for  you,  there  will  be  many  friends  going  who 
will  protect  you  from  harm  during  the  voyage." 

"And  your  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  Anders — 
don't  you  tell  anybody  that  you  have  got  it  on 
your  person.  They  might  kill  you,  and  then 
I  should  never  see  you  again,  and  the  baby 
would  have  no  father  any  more.  And  don't 
you  forget  that  I  put  your  clean  linen  on  the 
top  in  your  chest,  and  your  Sunday  clothes  in 
the  right  corner,  directly  under  the  hymn-book 
and  the  fine  shirts." 

"  No,  no,  I  shall  forget  nothing.  And  now, 
God  bless  you,  wife.  Let  me  kiss  the  baby. 
Take  good  care  of  him,  and  be  sure  you  teach 
him  to  say  '  father.' ': 

The  blonde  emigrant  here  stooped  and  rub 
bed  his  cheek  against  that  of  the  diminutive 
mummy  which  was  fighting  in  the  air  and  coo- 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  191 

ing  contentedly  on  its  mother's  back.  "  The 
little  rascal ! "  said  the  father,  with  a  faint 
smile.  "  He  doesn't  know  that  his  father  is  to 
leave  him  for  so  long  a  time.  Give  me  your 
hand,  baby  -dear,"  he  continued,  addressing 
himself  to  the  infant,  "  and  take  good  care  of 
your  mother  while  I  am  gone." 

He  turned  resolutely  about  and  descended 
the  stairs ;  but,  on  the  last  step,  he  lingered, 
turned  his  head  once  more,  and  leaped  up  on 
the  pier.  They  made  a  fine  group,  those  two, 
clasping  each  other's  hands,  with  the  sunlit 
air  about  them,  the  glittering  fiord  beneath 
them,  and  the  white  sea-gulls  circling  above 
them. 

The  steamer  gave  three  long  shrieks,  the 
oarsmen  shouted,  and  the  sea-birds,  as  if  to  in 
crease  the  general  commotion,  screamed  wildly 
as  they  rose  from  the  water  and  drifted  in 
snowy  masses  through  the  clear  air.  The  be 
lated  emigrant  stumbled  down  the  steps  and 
flung  himself  into  the  stern  of  the  last  boat. 


n. 


ANDERS  GUDMUNDSON  EUSTAD  was  the  young 
est  son  of  a  well-to-do  peasant  in  Hardanger, 
on  the  western  coast  of  Norway.  His  father, 
who,  during  his  life-time,  had  been  a  magnate 
in  the  parish,  had  left  a  large  farm  to  be  di 
vided  among  his  three  sons ;  and  the  sons  had 
scrupulously  carried  out  his  last  instructions 
regarding  the  property,  and  had  striven  brave 
ly  to  maintain  themselves  and  their  families  on 
their  divided  patrimony;  but  it  .was  a  hard 
struggle,  and  experience  taught  them  daily  that 
without  any  capital  to  invest  in  houses  and  im 
provements,  their  lives  would  be  a  continual 
hand-to-hand  battle  with  poverty.  "What  was 
worse,  they  could  no  longer  hope  to  assert  the 
traditional  influence  of  their  family  in  paro 
chial  affairs,  and  they  foresaw  the  time  when 
their  name  would  no  longer  be  as  weighty  and 
as  honored  as  it  had  been  in  ages  past.  The 
three  brothers,  therefore,  held  a  family  council 

192 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  193 

in  order  to  determine  what  measures  should 
be  taken  to  uphold  the  honor  and  authority  of 
their  ancient  name.  They  were  all  three  rig 
idly  honest,  upright,  and  law-abiding  men,  and 
one  was  as  well  qualified  as  another  to  wield 
the  influence  which  had  belonged  to  each  gen 
eration  of  their  race  as  by  ancient  right.  They 
were,  moreover,  men  of  a  strongly  moral  bias- 
grave,  thoughtful,  and  tenacious  of  their  pur 
pose  when  once  they  had  shaped  their  course 
of  action.  When  the  day  for  the  family  coun 
cil  arrived,  each  had,  therefore,  pondered  out 
his  own  solution  of  the  all-important  problem, 
which  he  clung  to  with  unwavering  energy, 
and  it  was  only  after  a  long  and  hard-fought 
competition  in  generosity  that  Anders's  plan 
prevailed,  and  his  eldest  brother,  Thorkel,  as 
the  legitimate  representative  of  the  family,  de 
termined  to  accept  his  self-sacrifice  in  the 
name  of  his  race.  It  was  only  just  and  fair, 
Anders  argued,  that  when  a  younger  brother, 
by  his  mere  existence,  interfered  with  the  best 
interests  of  the  family,  he  should  seek  for  him 
self  a  new  sphere  of  activity,  and  remove  to 
13 


194  A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE. 

fresh  fields  of  labor.  By  a  continual  subdi 
vision  of  the  land  between  the  descendants  of 
each  new  generation,  the  mightiest  race  would 
gradually  degenerate  into  mere  tenants  and 
day-laborers,  and  the  influence  built  up  by 
prudent  and  laborious  ancestors  would  be 
squandered  and  uselessly  dissipated  by  short 
sighted  and  improvident  descendants.  In  order 
not  to  cripple  his  eldest  brother  in  his  efforts 
to  assert  his  influence  and  independence,  An 
ders  volunteered  to  accept  a  mere  nominal 
sum — one  thousand  dollars — as  a  compensa 
tion  for  his  share  in  the  landed  inheritance, 
and,  with  this,  and  the  five  hundred  more 
which  belonged  to  his  wife,  he  hoped-  to  found 
a  new  home  in  America,  and  to  establish  for 
himself  an  honored  and  influential  name  in  the 
great  western  hemisphere.  This  was  no  hasty 
conclusion  which  he  uttered  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment.  For  two  years  past  he  had  studied 
the  English  language,  the  pronunciation  of 
which  he  had  learned  from  an  English  lord 
whose  guide  he  had  been  on  his  hunting  and 
fishing  expeditions  for  several  summers. 


A  DANGEKOUS  VIKTUE.  195 

The  second  son,  Bjorn,  not  wishing  to  be 
outdone  in  generosity  by  his  younger  brother, 
accepted  a  similar  compromise,  and,  having  a 
turn  for  trade,  resolved  to  settle  in  one  of  the 
cities  on  the  sea-coast  as  a  lumber-dealer.  It 
was  agreed,  however,  that  Anders's  wife  and 
child  should  remain  at  the  old  homestead  until 
he  should  have  succeeded  in  making  the  prop 
er  arrangements  for  their  reception  in  his  new 
home  beyond  the  sea. 

It  was  the  middle  of  April,  186-,  when  An 
ders  landed  at  Castle  Garden.  His  fifteen  hun 
dred  dollars  he  had  sewed  up  securely  in  a 
leathern  belt,  which  he  wore  about  his  waist, 
next  to  the  skin.  Nevertheless,  the  purser  on 
the  steamboat  divined  that  he  carried  a  large 
sum  of  money  on  his  person,  and,  beckoning 
him  aside,  warned  him,  in  a  friendly  whisper, 
against  the  dangers  to  which  an  immigrant  ex 
posed  himself  by  being  his  own  banker.  He 
begged  him  to  hasten  to  deposit  his  money  in 
a  safe  bank,  where  he  could  draw  it  at  will,  and 
where,  moreover,  he  would  get  interest  on  that 
part  of  it  which  he  might  not  immediately  use. 


196  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

The  Norseman,  who  had  not  let  the  least  hint 
fall  concerning  his  wealth,  was  not  a  little 
alarmed  at  the  purser's  power  of  divination, 
and,  although  saying  nothing,  resolved  on  the 
spot  to  follow  his  advice.  He  dared  consult  no 
one,  having  a  natural  distrust  of  foreigners, 
and  believing,  as  most  Norsemen  do,  that  the 
principal  occupation  of  Americans  consists  in 
outwitting  the  more  innocent  and  unsophisti 
cated  nations  of  the  earth.  Having  intrusted 
his  luggage  to  the  agent  of  the  steamship 
company,  he  launched  forth  boldly,  with  the 
intention  of  taking  a  promenade  through  the 
city,  and  obtaining  a  preliminary  survey  of  it 
before  selecting  a  temporary  place  of  lodgings  ; 
but  hardly  had  he  emerged  from  the  gate  of 
Castle  Garden,  before  he  was  hailed  by  a  dozen 
frantic  men,  some  of  whom  recommended  ob 
scure  hotels,  with  much  feverish  eloquence, 
while  others  greeted  him  as  an  old,  long-lost 
friend,  and  insisted  upon  overwhelming  him  with 
affectionate  attentions.  To  our  Norseman,  who 
had  always  looked  upon  himself  and  been  look 
ed  upon  by  others  as  a  man  of  shrewdness  and 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  197 

authority,  it  was  very  humiliating  to  be  selected 
as  an  easy  prey  by  these  importunate  rogues. 
He  had  always  felt  himself  firm  and  free,  «vith 
his  foot  planted  on  his  native  rock,  and  it  gave 
him,  in  this  moment,  an  unpleasant  shock  to  be 
placed  at  a  disadvantage  by  creatures  of  an  in 
ferior  species.  To  them,  he  reflected  hurriedly, 
his  ancient  name  was  but  an  unmeaning,  bar 
baric  sound,  and  it  was  folly  to  attempt  to  as 
sert  an  authority  which  no  one  recognized ;  he 
therefore  extricated  himself  as  best  he  could 
from  the  crowd,  being  conscious  of  a  vague  un 
easiness  and  annoyance,  and  dreading  to  use 
his  superior  strength  lest  he  might  offend 
against  the  unknown  laws  of  this  enigmatical 
country.  The  noise  about  him  grew  more  and 
more  deafening.  To  his  ears,  accustomed  only 
to  the  murmur  of  the  sea  and  the  scream  of  the 
eagle  in  the  vast  solitudes,  this  incessant  tramp 
of  feet,  the  harsh  rattle  of  wheels  upon  the 
stone  pavements,  and  the  shouts  of  men  in 
strange  tongues,  were  so  utterly  bewildering 
that  he  had  frequently  to  pause  to  collect  his 
senses,  and  his  reason  seemed  to  be  wandering 


198  A  DANGEKOUS  VIETUE. 

beyond  his  control.  His  firm  confidence  in 
himself  as  a  normal  and  well-regulated  human 
being  began,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to 
desert  him.  His  Norse  costume,  which  he  had 
worn  since  the  days  of  his  childhood,  and  the 
propriety  of  which  he  had  never  thought  of 
questioning,  now  suddenly  appeared  queer 
and  outlandish  ;  and  the  half-curious,  half-con 
temptuous  glances  which  he  received  from  the 
men  and  women  who  hurried  past  him,  made 
him  alternately  burn  and  shiver,  until  he  only 
longed  to  hide  himself  in  some  dark  and  quiet 
place  where  no  human  eye  could  reach  him. 
He  trembled  at  the  thought  that  perhaps  these 
strange  people,  with  their  keen  unsympathetic 
eyes,  had,  like  the  purser  on  the  ship,  discov 
ered  that  he  carried  a  large  sum  of  money  in 
his  belt,  and  were  only  watching  their  oppor 
tunity  to  take  it  away  from  him.  The  weight 
of  the  gold  eagles  seemed  to  be  dragging  him 
down;  his  knees  shook  under  him,  and  his 
blood  throbbed  in  his  ears  and  temples  until 
he  feared  to  take  another  step,  lest  he  should 
fall  to  the  ground  and  be  trampled  down  by  the 


A  DANGEEOUS  VIRTUE.  199 

unfeeling  multitude  that  were  pressing  about 
him  on  all  sides.  At  this  moment,  just  as  his 
strength  was  on  the  point  of  failing  him,  his 
eyes  fell,  as  if  by  chance,  upon  a  huge  stone 
building,  upon  the  front  of  which  was  written, 
in  large,  gilt  letters,  "Immigrants'  Savings 
Bank  and  Trust  Company."  The  word  "im 
migrant"  first  caught  his  glance,  and  by  means 
of  the  pocket-dictionary  which  he  carried  with 
him  he  easily  made  out  the  meaning  of  the  rest. 
This  was  evidently  a  hint  of  Providence.  An 
Immigrants'  Savings  Bank  and  Trust  Com 
pany  !  The  latter  half  of  the  title,  especially, 
appealed  to  him ;  it  had  such  an  assuring  sound 
—a  Trust  Company  !  The  very  name  inspired 
confidence.  It  was  exactly  the  kind  of  institu 
tion  which  he  wanted. 

The  weary  and  bewildered  Norseman 
straightened  himself  up  ;  he  took  off  his  cap 
and  ran  his  hand  through  his  blonde  hair.  The 
cool  air  blew  against  his  throbbing  forehead, 
and  he  drew  a  full,  long  breath,  and  reflected 
that,  after  all,  the  God  of  the  Norseman  could 
see  him  even  in  this  remote  and  tumultuous 


200  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

world,  and  would  not  desert  him.  So  he  whis 
pered  a  snatch  of  an  old  hymn,  and  hastened 
across  the  street  toward  the  huge  granite  edi 
fice,  which  he  stopped  once  more  to  admire. 
Surely  here  was  something  solid  and  tangible ; 
no  flimsy  ornaments,  no  whimsical  striving  for 
originality  in  design  ;  everywhere  square  blocks 
of  stone,  with  an  air  of  stability  and  grave  de 
corum  about  them  which  left  no  room  for 
doubt  as  to  the  civic  weight  and  responsibility 
of  the  men  who  had  erected  them.  And,  as  if  to 
dispel  the  last  shadow  of  a  misgiving  that  might 
still  be  lingering  in  the  depositor's  mind,  they 
had  had  their  names  engraved  in  neat  gilt  let 
ters  upon  the  granite  bases  of  the  pillars  which 
supported  the  lofty,  round-arched  portico  of 
the  entrance  to  the  bank.  The  simple  Norse 
man  took  his  cap  clean  off,  and  held  it  respect 
fully  in  his  hand,  while  he  contemplated  the 
ponderous  respectability  of  these  euphonious 
syllables.  "  Hon.  Randolph  Melville,  sr.,  Presi 
dent  "  !  Who  would  deny  that  there  was  some 
thing  fine  and  alluring  in  the  very  sound  of 
that  name  ?  Mr.  Randolph  Melville  was  Hon- 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  201 

orable — that  was  a  matter  of  course  to  tlio 
immigrant's  mind ;  for  Lie  knew  not  the  cheap 
ness  of  that  frequently  so  ironical  title  in  the 
United  States,  nor  did  he  know  the  processes 
by  which  it  is  acquired.  It  seemed  more  sig 
nificant  to  him  that  Mr.  Kandolph  Melville 
was  the  senior  of  that  name,  and  he  imme 
diately  pictured  to  himself  the  honorable  bank 
president  as  a  white-haired  patriarch,  sur 
rounded  by  an  admiring  and  affectionate  fami 
ly,  who  looked  to  him  for  counsel  and  guidance. 
"With  this  pleasing  picture  hovering  before  his 
mind,  he  resolutely  entered  the  bank  and 
placed  his  cap  upon  the  snow-white  marble 
counter.  Behind  the  little  windows  half  a 
dozen  clerks,  with  rigidly  neutral  countenances, 
were  scribbling  away  busily,  and  hardly  deigned 
to  notice  the  rustic,  who,  with  the  air  of  a  hum 
ble  petitioner,  was  wandering  from  one  window 
to  another,  and  endeavoring  to  attract  their 
distinguished  attention.  Finally,  a  very  ele 
gantly  attired  little  man,  with  an  exquisite 
black  mustache,  inclined  his  head  slightly  to 
wards  an  opening  which  bore  the  inscription, 


202  A  DANGEKOUS  VIRTUE. 

"  Receiving  Teller,"  and,  without  responding  to 
the  Norseman's  respectful  greeting,  asked  him, 
in  a  gruff  voice,  what  he  wanted. 

"I  have  fifteen  hundred  dollars,"  faltered 
Anders,  in  indifferent  English,  "and  I  should 
like  to  deposit  it  here  for  some  months,  until  I 
shall  need  it." 

The  teller,  instead  of  answering,  bent  once 
more  over  his  books,  as  if  he  had  heard  noth 
ing. 

"  I  have  fifteen  hundred  dollars —  "  began 
the  immigrant  once  more  ;  but  the  teller  scrib 
bled  away  for  dear  life,  and  only  stopped  oc 
casionally  to  wipe  his  forehead  with  a  white 
handkerchief. 

At  this  moment  a  tall,  majestic-looking  man, 
with  iron-gray  hair  and  a  handsome,  clean 
shaven  face,  entered  from  an  inner  room  and 
approached  the  counter. 

"  What  does  this  man  want  ?"  he  said,  con 
fronting  the  clerk  with  a  gaze  of  withering 
severity. 

"  He  wants  to  make  a  deposit,  sir,"  answered 
the  clerk. 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  203 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  good  fellow  ? " 
asked  the  majestic  man,  in  a  tone  of  benign 
condescension. 

"  Anders  Gudmundson  Rustad,"  replied  the 
Norseman,  cheerfully.  He  felt  sure  that  this 
was  the  Hon.  Randolph  Melville,  sr.,  and  he 
reflected  with  satisfaction  that  his  actual  ap 
pearance  differed  but  slightly  from  the  imagin 
ary  portrait  of  him  which  he  had  constructed 
at  the  sight  of  his  name. 

"And  what  is  the  amount  you  wish  to  de 
posit  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Melville,  seizing  a  small 
pasteboard  book  from  a  pile  which  was  neatly 
stacked  under  the  counter. 

"  Fifteen  hundred  dollars.  It  is  all  I  possess 
in  this  world — my  own  inheritance  and  that  of 
my  wife." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand,"  said  the"  banker, 
impatiently.  "Hand  it  here,  please." 

The  immigrant  unbuttoned  his  red  waistcoat, 
unbuckled  the  heavy  leathern  belt,  and  cut  the 
seam  open  at  one  end  with  his  knife.  He 
then  counted  out  the  large,  shining  gold  pieces 
upon  the  counter,  whereupon  Hon.  Randolph 


204  A  DANGEKOUS  VIETUE. 

Melville  pushed  them  with  an  indifferent,  busi 
ness-like  air  into  an  open  drawer,  and  handed 
the  depositor  the  little  book  through  the  win 
dow. 

"  We  pay  five  per  cent,"  he  said,  "  and  you 
can  draw  at  pleasure." 

"But,"  stammered  the  Norseman,  who  was 
gazing  with  a  bewildered  expression  into  his 
book,  "  I  have  only  given  you  fifteen  hundred, 
and  here  you  have  put  down  twenty-one  hun 
dred." 

"Yes,  gold  is  at  a  premium  of  forty  per 
cent." 

And  Mr.  Melville,  with  the  same  severe  and 
majestic  air,  turned  his  back  on  his  rustic  in 
terlocutor,  and  reentered  his  private  office. 
There  were  a  dozen  questions  which  Anders 
would  have  liked  to  ask  regarding  the  best 
manner  of  drawing  his  money,  etc.,  but  he 
feared  to  trouble  further  the  great  man  or  his 
unresponsive  clerks,  and  therefore  betook  him 
self  away  with  a  helpless  mien  and  slow,  reluc 
tant  steps.  This  world  was  a  very  puzzling  affair 
after  all,  he  reflected,  and  as  for  asserting  the 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  205 

influence  of  the  Rustad  family  and  its  Norse 
traditions  in  this  chaotic  whirlpool  of  conflict 
ing  interests,  why,  that  was  a  hopeless  under 
taking. 


III. 


,  ANDEKS  EUSTAD,  fearing  to  trust  himself  to 
the  guidance  of  the  hotel  runners,  returned 
that  night  to  Castle  Garden,  where  he  slept  on 
the  floor  of  one  of  the  galleries,  with  his  jacket 

•*  M 

rolled  up  under  his  head  for  a  pillow.  Bound 
about  him,  men  and  women  in  all  sorts  of  cu 
rious  costumes  lay  stretched  out  in  sleep  on 
boxes  and  trunks,  and  their  heavy,  regular 
breathing  rose  in  a  doleful  chorus  under  the 
wide  rotunda,  and  attuned  his  mind  to  melan 
choly  reflections.  He  was  half  inclined  to  re 
pent  of  the  generous  resolve  by  which  he  had 
voluntarily  exiled  himself  from  the  ancient 
home  of  his  race,  and  plunged  rashly  into  a 
complex  foreign  world  which  he  was  ill  quali 
fied  to  cope  with.  And  yet  he  argued  to  him 
self,  it  was  but  an  act  of  justice,  and  not  of 
generosity.  If  his  brother  had  been  in  his 
place,  would  he  not  have  done  likewise  ?  Sure 
ly  he  would  have  acted  in  the  same  spirit. 

206 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  207 

Then  the  thought  came  to  him  of  his  beautiful 
fair-haired  wife,  who  was  longing  to  share  his 
fate  in  this  new  land,  and  of  his  little  boy,  who 
would  grow  up,  perhaps,  to  be  a  powerful  man, 
and  would  conquer  wealth  and  influence  here 
where  there  was  yet  elbow-room  for  every  free 
and  energetic  spirit.  He  built  in  imagination, 
first,  a  snug  little  cabin,  then  a  stately,  spacious 
mansion  upon  the  western  prairie,  and  he  saw 
his  wife  entering  it  for  the  first  time,  her  fair 
face  beaming  with  gratitude  and  pleased  sur 
prise.  Happy  visions  floated  before  his  closed 
eyes,  and  pursued  him  into  that  delightful 
state  of  semi-consciousness  which  precedes  the 
dreamless  slumber. 

The  next  morning,  Anders  resolved  to  find 
the  railroad  depot  and  to  start  on  his  west 
ward  journey.  He  felt  hopeful  and  strong,  and 
was  half  ashamed  of  the  weakness  which  he 
had  shown  the  day  before.  The  noise  was 
now  positively  exhilarating ;  he  had  a  sensa 
tion  of  being  part  of  it,  and  it  buoyed  him  up 
with  joyous  excitement.  The  pulse  of  the 
world  was  beating  vigorously,  and  its  strong 


208  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

life-currents  were  beginning  to  circulate 
through,  his  own  being.  The  tall,  blank-look 
ing  edifices  from  which  men  kept  running  out 
and  in,  like  bees  at  the  mouth  of  a  hive, 
looked  far  less  forbidding  than  the  day  before  ; 
their  unindividualized  severity  had,  at  all 
events,  acquired  the  dignity  of  a  useful  pur 
pose.  The  sunlight  was  pouring  in  a  mild, 
steady  stream  into  the  broad  thoroughfare  ; 
the  chimes  of  Trinity  were  ringing  merrily 
through  the  clear  air  ;  and  the  men  who  were 
every  moment  alighting  from  the  crowded  om 
nibuses,  with  the  morning  papers  in  their 
hands,  had  an  air  of  self-confidence  and  suc 
cess  which  was  almost  inspiring.  All  that  a 
sensible  and  industrious  Norseman  required, 
in  order  to  conquer  a  place  for  himself  in  this 
bright  and  busy  land,  was  a  little  spiritual  ac 
climatization,  and  that  the  years  would  imper 
ceptibly  supply  without  much  conscious  effort. 
I  am  not  sure  that  Anders's  meditations  on 
this  subject  were  clearly  formulated  in  the 
above  phrases,  but  he  had  a  cheerful  sense 
that  his  foreignness  was  gradually  wearing 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  209 

away,  and  that  within  a  short  time  he  would 
be  able  to  engage  in  the  struggle  for  existence 
on  equal  terms  with  his  fellow-competitors. 

While  pursuing  these  pleasant  fancies,  An 
ders  had  reached  the  corner  of  the  street 
where  the  bank  reared  its  stately  facade 
against  the  blue  sky.  A  dense  crowd  of  ex 
cited  people,  mostly  laborers  in  fustian  and 
shabbily  attired  women,  were  gathered  about 
its  closed  doors,  and  four  policemen  were 
striving  in  vain  to  clear  the  sidewalk  and  to 
open  a  passage  for  the  constantly  growing 
throng  of  pedestrians.  Half  a  dozen  horses, 
harnessed  to  enormous  drays,  were  plunging 
and  rearing  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  and 
the  drivers  were  swearing  and  cracking  their 
whips,  while  freshly  arriving  vehicles,  with 
difficulty  detained  by  the  policemen,  every 
moment  increased  the  tumult  and  confusion. 
Our  Norseman,  to  whom  this  was  a  novel,  and, 
on  the  whole,  an  entertaining  spectacle,  rush 
ed  forward  to  assist  in  disengaging  the  inter 
locked  wheels,  and  by  two  vigorous  pulls  suc 
ceeded  in  setting  one  of  the  drays  at  liberty. 
14 


210  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

The  driver,  without  stopping  to  thank  him, 
whipped  up  his  horses  and  drove  off  at  a  rapid 
trot ;  the  other  teams  followed,  and  within  a 
minute  the  traffic  of  the  street  had  resumed 
its  usual  noisy  regularity.  Anders,  who  had 
hardly  had  time  to  wonder  at  the  presence  of 
the  crowd,  and  still  less  at  its  fierce  excite 
ment,  supposing  both  to  be  normal  phenomena 
of  American  life,  now  respectfully  approached 
a  policeman  and  asked  him,  in  his  broken 
English,  if  any  calamity  had  happened,  and 
why  the  people  appeared  so  agitated. 

"The  bank  is  busted,"  replied  the  officer, 
laconically. 

"Busted?"  asked  the  Norseman,  with  a 
vague  sense  of  alarm ;  for  the  word  "  busted  " 
did  not  exist  in  his  vocabulary. 

"  Yes ;  gone  up  the  spout,'*  explained  the 
officer,  with  a  gruff  laugh.  "  Gone  where  the 
woodbine  twineth." 

The  immigrant  was  utterly  mystified ;  by  a 
violent  effort  he  repelled  the  one  rational  ex 
planation  of  the  scene,  and,  clinging  to  a  futile 
hope,  hauled  out  his  friend3  the  dictionary. 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  211 

But  neither  the  definition  of  "  spout "  nor  of 
"  woodbine "  suggested  the  remotest  clue  to 
the  enigma.  Looking  up,  he  saw  a  lean,  mid 
dle-aged  woman  shaking  her  clenched  fist  in 
helpless  rage  against  the  broad  stone  facade 
of  the  building,  which  in  its  granite  security 
seemed  to  smile  defiance  down  upon  her.  An 
gry  men  were  rushing  up  the  front  steps  and 
hammering  with  their  heels  and  elbows  against 
the  solid  oak  doors,  while  others  were  threat 
ening  the  policemen,  who  were  making  a  faint 
show  of  restraining  them  from  further  vio 
lence.  Anders  stood  and  gazed  and  gazed  in 
numb,  shivering  silence.  He  was  dimly  aware 
that  a  great  calamity  had  happened,  and  that 
it  had  happened  to  him ;  but  the  shock  had 
paralyzed  his  thoughts,  and  his  mind  seemed 
a  cold  vacuum.  He  felt  a  dull  throbbing  in 
his  head  and  a  strange  numbness  in  his  limbs. 
He  heard  the  screams  and  curses  around  him 
as  one  hears  voices  in  a  dream ;  the  sunlight 
poured  down  upon  him,  but  it  was  no  longer 
the  same  sunlight  he  had  rejoiced  in  but  a  few 
moments  ago ;  it  was  rather  like  something  white 


212  A  DANGEKOUS  VIRTUE. 

and  heavy — a  bright  and  dense  veil,  which  fell 
with  a  positive  weight  upon  his  eyes.  The 
crowd  now  filled  the  whole  street ;  two  or 
three  stones  were  flung  against  the  windows  of 
the  bank ;  then  some  one  climbed  up  on  the 
front  steps  and  gesticulated  wildly,  while  ap 
pearing  to  speak,  though  no  one  appeared  to 
hear  what  he  said.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of 
all  this  tumult,  Anders  felt  himself  hurried 
away  by  an  impulse  which  he  was  powerless 
to  resist.  He  heard  a  rhythmic  tramp  of  feet, 
the  report  of  one  or  two  pistols,  and  saw 
the  multitude  scattering  in  precipitate  haste 
through  the  neighboring  streets. 

When  he  had  regained  control  of  his  senses, 
he  found  himself  sitting  on  a  bench  in  the 
square  in  front  of  the  City  Hall.  A  brooding 
calm  had  come  over  him,  and  he  saw  with 
painful  vividness  the  consequences  of  the  ca 
lamity  which  had  overtaken  him.  Where  were 
now  the  home  on  the  prairie,  his  son's  future, 
and  his  wife's  joyous  surprise  ?  A  sense  of  in 
jury,  mingled  as  yet  with  sorrow  for  those  that 
were  dear  to  him,  kept  burrowing  more  and 


A  DANGEROUS  VIKTUE.  213 

more  deeply  into  his  soul ;  and  as  he  recalled 
the  scenes  of  yesterday — the  majestic  indiffer 
ence  of  the  thief  and  his  own  humility — keen 
er  pangs  awoke  within  him,  and  he  sprang  up 
and  shook  his  clenched  fists  against  the  hea 
vens.  If  there  was  a  righteous  God  sitting 
there  above,  how,  then,  could  such  a  mon 
strous  wrong  be  possible  ?  And,  if  he  was 
deaf  to  the  cries  of  the  oppressed,  was  it  not 
then  the  duty  of  the  wronged  man  to  take  the 
judgment  into  his  own  hands,  and  to  help 
himself  to  justice?  The  justice  of  this  world 
was  for  the  great,  not  for  the  small.  How 
could  he  now,  without  money  or  influence, 
without  friends  or  connections,  obtain  the 
means  to  prosecute  before  a  court  of  law  the 
robber  who  had  stolen  his  happiness,  his 
future,  and  his  very  faith  in  God  away  from 
him  ?  He  remembered  well  that  the  venerable 
preacher  at  home  promised  the  righting  of  all 
wrongs  in  the  hereafter,  and  that  arrangement 
had  always,  up  to  the  present  moment,  seemed 
in  a  general  way  quite  satisfactory.  He  had 
never  seen  any  reason  why  the  injured  man 


214  A  DANGEROUS   VIRTUE. 

should  not  be  content  to  bide  his  time,  and 
then,  in  the  blessed  security  of  Abraham's 
bosom,  rejoice  in  the  torments  of  Dives  in  the 
bottomless  pit.  But  now,  in  that  sudden 
clearance  of  vision  which  often  follows  in  the 
wake  of  a  great  disaster,  when  the  mightily 
aroused  passion  flings  its  fierce  light  into 
every  corner  of  the  soul,  he  saw  how  vague 
and  also  how  unworthy  of  a  just  man  was  the 
hope  of  such  a  retribution.  With  every  pass 
ing  instant  his  horizon  seemed  to  widen ;  the 
world  re-adjusted  itself  in  his  mind  according 
to  new  and  hitherto  unsuspected  laws,  and  he 
saw  and  felt  things  which  he  had  never  seen 
and  felt  before.  A  burning  unrest  possessed 
him,  and  he  hungered  for  action  of  some 
mighty  sort.  The  mere  personal  wrong  had 
suddenly  assumed  relations  to  the  world  at 
large,  with  its  hoary  abuses,  and  he  yearned 
to  seize  hold  of  its  hidden  levers  and  cog 
wheels,  and  to  set  the  universe  right. 

While  these  defiant  thoughts  were  rushing 
through  his  brain,  Anders  was  moving  rap 
idly  across  the  square,  talking  aloud  to  himself, 


A  DANGEROUS   VIRTUE.  215 

and  stopping  every  now  and  then  to  shake  his 
fist  at  some  invisible  antagonist.  Though  at 
first  bewildered  by  the  newness  and  the  noisy 
commotion  of  the  great  city,  he  was  at  heart 
no  milksop,  and  now  that  the  slumbering 
strength  of  his  Norse  nature  had  been  aroused, 
the  tempest  within  him  was  not  easily  stilled. 
He  saw  all  that  went  on  around  him,  but  only 
in  a  remote  and  misty  way,  and  he  felt  a  sort 
of  fierce  satisfaction  amid  all  his  misery  that 
now  at  last  he  saw  things  as  they  actually 
were.  He  pitied  his  old  simple  self,  and 
thought  of  his  old  contented  life  with  affec 
tionate  contempt. 

The  sun  rose  higher  in  the  heavens,  the  day 
advanced ;  and  still  he  kept  marching  up  one 
street  and  down  another,  feeling  no  weariness, 
but  only  a  feverish  need  of  moving.  It  was  a 
little  after  noon  that  he  paused  by  accident 
before  a  sooty-looking  building,  over  the  door 
of  which  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  United  Scan 
dinavian  kingdoms  was  displayed.  He  read 
the  name  of  the  Norwegian  consul  on  a  sign 
attached  to  one  of  the  steps  of  the  stairs,  and 


216  A  DANGEKOUS  VIRTUE. 

yielding  to  a  momentary  impulse  lie  entered 
the  office.  It  might  be  well  not  to  leave  any 
stone  unturned  in  his  efforts  to  obtain  justice. 
The  consul  was  a  tall,  well-built  man,  of  stately 
presence,  and  with  a  kindly  and  refined  face. 
He  rose  from  his  seat  and  received  the  immi 
grant  with  courtesy,  as  if  he  had  been  a  high 
functionary  of  state.  There  was  something  in 
the  peasant's  bearing  and  manner  which  in 
stantly  commanded  respect. 

"  Take  a  seat,"  said  the  consul,  inviting  An 
ders  to  step  within  the  railing  which  divided 
the  inner  sanctuary  of  the  office  from  the  part 
accessible  to  the  public.  "I  see  by  your  face 
that  you  have  something  important  to  say  to 
me." 

"So  I  have,  Mr.  Consul,"  said  Anders, 
"though  I  hardly  expect  you  can  do  much  for 
me." 

And  he  told  simply  and  straightforwardly 
what  had  befallen  him,  since  he  landed,  up  to 
the  present  moment. 

"  H'm,  h'm ;  that  is  a  bad  story,"  said  the 
consul ;  "  but  whatever  I  can  do  for  you  shall 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  217 

certaiiily  be  done.  It  is  unfortunately  not  an 
international  affair  in  which  your  Government 
can  interfere." 

"  And  what  would  you  advise  me  to  do,  Mr. 
Consul?  "  asked  the  immigrant,  laying  both  his 
hands  weightily  on  his  knees. 

"  I  would  advise  you  to  write  to  the  corpora 
tion " 

"  The  corporation — what  is  that?" 

"  A  corporation,"  responded  the  consul,  with 
a  hesitating  smile, — "well,  a  corporation  is  a 
sort  of  composite  creature, '  which  has  no  body 
to  be  whipped,  and  no  soul  to  be  damned.' " 

"  Then  I  am  afraid  there  would  be  no  use  in 
my  writing  to  it." 

"  Well,  then,  I  would  write  to  the  Hon.  Kan- 
dolph  Melville,  sr.,  personally,  and  state  my 
grievance  plainly.  He  is  a  charitable  person, 
and  would,  perhaps,  be  induced  to  make  an 
exception  in  your  favor." 

Anders  jumped  up  as  if  something  had  stung 
him. 

"  Grievance  !  Charity  ! "  he  cried,  indignantly. 
"  I  do  not  ask  charity,  Mr.  Consul — I  demand 


218  A  DANGEROUS   VIRTUE. 

justice!  Mr.  Randolph  Melville  stole  my 
money,  knowing  that  it  was  all  I  possessed  in 
this  world,  and  knowing,  too,  that  he  would 
fail  on  the  following  day.  Now,  if  there  is  jus 
tice  to  be  had  in  this  land,  I  want  to  have  him 
punished." 

"  Aha !  That  is  what  you  want !  "  exclaimed 
the  consul.  "  Well,  then,  I  am  afraid  I  can 
not  help  you.  You  must  remember  that  Mr. 
Melville  is  not  the  bank  ;  he  is  only  its  presi 
dent,  and  he  does  not  act  without  the  knowl 
edge  and  consent  of  the  directors,  who,  natu 
rally,  are  no  more  and  no  less  guilty  than  he 
is  himself.  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  the 
whole  company  in  jail  in  suits  of  striped  gar 
ments  ?  " 

"  I  would  ;  and  it  is  no  more  than  just  that, 
if  they  are  all  guilty,  they  should  all  be  pun 
ished." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  fear  your  sense  of  justice 
will  be  the  ruin  of  you." 

"I  am  willing  to  be  ruined  in  so  good  a 
cause — that  is,  if  I  accomplish  my  end  by  my 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  219 

"  Heavenly  powers  !  "  cried  the  official. 
"  What  a  fierce  and  unchristian  temperament ! 
If  you  had  lived  as  long  in  this  country,  or,  in 
fact,  in  this  world,  as  I  have,  you  would  have 
learned  that  insisting  so  obstinately  upon  one's 
right  is  the  surest  road  to  destruction,  tem 
poral  and  eternal.  Have  we  not  all  daily  to 
accept  compromises  where,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  absolute  jus 
tice  ?  In  fact,  isn't  our  whole  political  life  and 
our  whole  civilized  society  made  up  of  com 
promises  between  right  and  wrong?  Prudence 
dictates  it ;  religion  recommends  and  sanctions 
it.  You  know  the  parable  of  the  unjust  stew 
ard,  and  Christ's  counsel  to  his  disciples  to 
make  friends  with  the  mammon  of  unright 
eousness.  Now,  in  your  case,  your  duty  is 
very  simple.  Probably  within  a  few  weeks  a 
percentage  of  ten  or  fifteen  cents  on  the  dollar 
will  be  declared,  and  you  will  get  your  share. 
Put  that  in  your  pocket  and  start  West,  and 
do  as  well  as  you  can  with  it." 

Anders  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  railing, 
listening  in  rebellious  silence  to  what  the  con- 


220  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

sul  said.  To  him  such  a  compromise  with  evil 
was  mean  and  cowardly,  and  utterly  repugnant. 
No  ;  he  wanted  justice,  and  the  last  drop  of  his 
blood  he  would  stake  in  his  efforts  to  obtain  it. 

"  One  thing  more,  Mr.  Consul,"  he  said, 
looking  up  into  the  latter's  kindly  face  with 
his  large  serious  eyes.  "  You  know  Mr.  Ran 
dolph  Melville  ?  " 

"  I  know  him  very  well.  I  have  known  him 
for  years." 

"  Where  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  Fifth  Avenue.     No.  — ." 

"  Thank  you.  And  will  he  give  up  his  fine 
house  and  have  his  furniture  sold  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious,  no  !  I  am  pretty  sure  he 
will  not  do  that.  The  house,  moreover,  be 
longs  to  his  wife." 

"  Then  he  married  a  rich  wife  ?  " 

"  No,  not  that  exactly.  She  was  quite  poor 
when  he  married  her,  but  she  is  very  rich  now." 

"  She  has  inherited  money  since  she  was 
married  ?  " 

"  No  ;  as  far  as  I  know,  she  has  inherited 
nothing." 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  221 

"  How  then  lias  she  gained  her  wealth  ?  " 

The  consul  shrugged  his  shoulders  signifi 
cantly. 

"  You  should  not  inquire  too  curiously  into 
family  mysteries,"  he  said,  with  a  sardonic 
smile.  "It  isn't  right  nor  delicate." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  the 
consul  sat  tapping  the  corner  of  his  desk  medi 
tatively  with  his  gold  pencil. 

"  If  I  accept  nothing  less  than  a  hundred 
cents  on  the  dollar,"  said  Anders,  at  last, 
"  what  will  happen  then  ?  " 

"  You  will  get  nothing." 

4 'Yes,  something  I  shall  get." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?" 

"  Justice." 

' '  That  is  a  poor  exchange  for  two  hundred 
dollars." 

The  door  opened  and  closed,  and  the  heavy, 
determined  steps  of  the  immigrant  sounded 
defiantly  in  the  consul's  ears. 

"Poor  fellow  !  "  he  sighed ;  "  he  will  be  sure 
to  come  to  grief.  But  for  all  that,  one  can't 
help  admiring  the  fine  stuff  he  is  made  of." 


IY. 


SOCIETY  appears  very  different  when  looked 
at  through  one  eye-glass  from  its  topmost  stra 
tum,  from  what  it  does  when  looked  at  from 
its  nether  side  through  a  haze  of  tears.  To  a 
man  who  can  afford  French  cookery  and  cham 
pagne  with  his  dinner,  and  who  can  arrange 
his  comforts  regardless  of  their  expense,  the 
ways  of  Providence  are  apt  to  seem  just  and 
good ;  while  he  who,  since  he  committed  the 
mistake  of  being  born,  has  been  tripped  up  at 
every  step  by  fatal  mischances,  to  whom  the 
prospect  of  a  dinner  is  always  more  or  less 
problematic,  and  to  whom  physical  comfort  is 
an  unknown  quantity,  is  hardly  to  be  blamed 
if  he  regards  the  existing  order  of  things  as 
being  not  entirely  above  criticism.  I  have 
heard  people,  who  have  been  unacquainted 
with  any  severer  hardship  than  dyspepsia 
after  a  too  hearty  meal,  moralize  blandly  con 
cerning  the  labor  problem  and  the  unwarrant- 

222 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  223 

able  rebelliousness  of  the  lower  classes,  and 
devise,  in  the  abstract,  delightfully  inadequate 
remedies  for  the  cure  of  the  great  social  evils ; 
but  I  have  always  suspected  that  a  little  con 
crete  experience  of  misery  would  shake  the 
basis  of  their  reasoning,  and,  perhaps,  bring 
about  a  radical  reconstruction  of  their  social 
philosophy. 

Six  weeks  had  passed  since  the  failure  of  the 
"  Immigrants'  Savings  Bank  and  Trust  Com 
pany."  During  this  time  Anders  Rustad  had 
called  almost  daily  at  the  house  of  Hon.  Ran 
dolph  Melville,  sr.,  on  Fifth  Avenue,  but  he 
had  never  been  admitted.  The  colored  servant 
had  at  last  rudely  slammed  the  door  in  his 
face,  as  soon  as  he  saw  him,  and  told  him  that 
if  he  dared  to  come  back  his  master  would 
have  him  arrested.  But  Anders  was  nothing 
daunted ;  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  an 
interview  with  Mr.  Melville,  and  was  resolved, 
if  necessary,  to  persevere  in  his  efforts  to  gain 
admission  until  the  sounding  of  the  last  trump. 
He  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  managed  to  subsist, 
after  a  fashion,  on  the  little  money  he  had  ob- 


224  A  DANGEROUS   VIBTUE. 

tained  by  the  sale  of  his  railroad  ticket  to  Min 
nesota. 

He  had  offered  his  case  to  a  score  of  lawyers, 
all  of  whom  he  had  bewildered  by  his  inability 
to  comprehend,  or  his  unwillingness  to  abide 
by,  that  system  of  half-measures  and  compro 
mises  which  is  embodied  in  our  criminal  and 
civil  legislation,  and  in  some  of  our  political 
institutions. 

"A  thing  is  either  right,"  this  poor  be 
nighted  immigrant  reasoned,  "  and  then  it 
ought  to  be  upheld,  defended,  and  protected; 
or  it  is  wrong,  and  should  be  condemned,  pro 
secuted,  and  punished.  Eight"  and  wrong  can 
never  shake  hands  and  march  along  through 
life,  arm  in  arm.  If  Melville  cheated  me  and 
robbed  me  of  my  money,  which  his  clerk  would 
not  take,  why  then  he  should  be  locked  up  in 
jail,  so  that  other  poor  immigrants  may  be 
protected  against  him,  and  not  fall  into  the 
hidden  trap  which  again  he  may  dig  at  their 
feet." 

Anders  had  grown  strangely  keen-sighted 
during  these  miserable  six  weeks ;  all  the 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  225 

powers  of  his  hitherto  dormant  soul  had  been 
awakened,  and  he  felt  himself  growing  in  men 
tal  stature  with  every  passing  day.  But  the 
feverish  current  of  his  thought  had  dried  up 
his  blood  and  made  his  cheeks  pale  and  hollow, 
and  his  eyes  large  and  brilliant.  His  disor 
dered  hair  hung  in.  tangled  locks  down  over  his 
forehead,  his  beard  grew  in  long  tufts  over  his 
cheeks  and  chin,  and  his  intense  yet  absent- 
minded  expression  had  so  completely  changed 
the  look  of  his  face  that  his  own  brother  would 
probably  have  passed  him  without  recognition, 
had  chance  led  their  paths  together. 

On  the  evening  of  May  25th,  Anders  trudged 
as  usual  up  the  avenue,  revolving  in  his  mind 
some  plan  for  capturing  an  interview  with  his 
slippery  opponent.  He  instinctively  tightened 
his  grip  on  his  stout  cane  whenever  an  inge 
nious  thought  occurred  to  him,  and  now  and 
then  he  stopped  to  pound  the  pavement  in 
fierce  satisfaction.  He  did  not  ring  at  the 
front  door  this  time,  but  he  climbed  the  fence 
to  the  back  yard,  and  thence  swung  himself 

up  on  the  roof  of  a  vine-entwined  arbor,  from 
15 


226  A  DANGEBOUS  VIRTUE. 

which,  without  difficulty,  he  could  reach  the 
dining-room  window.  It  wras  seven  o'clock. 
The  evening  was  warm,  and  a  great  blaze  of 
light  streamed  out  from  within  through  the 
half-opened  window.  He  saw  through  the  slats 
of  the  inside  blinds  a  large  company  assembled 
at  dinner,  and  Mr.  Melville's  massive  neck  and 
broad,  majestic  back  almost  within  reach  of 
his  outstretched  arm.  Next  to  him  sat  a 
beautiful  young  lady  in  a  cream-colored  silk 
dress,  and  with  a  large  bunch  of  pale  yellow 
roses  high  up  on  her  left  shoulder.  There  was 
a  delicately  insinuating  flattery  in  her  smile  as 
she  turned  her  fair  face  toward  Mr.  Melville, 
and  submitted  her  airy  opinions  to  his  weighty 
and  substantial  judgments. 

"  Really,  I  can't  see  why  the  laboring  classes 
should  always  be  so  horrid  and  discontented," 
Anders  heard  her  saying.  "  They  have  not  our 
fine  sensibilities,  and  they  never  have  been  ac 
customed  to  anything  better  than  what  they 
have  ;  why,  then,  should  they  not  accept  their 
lot  in  a  Christian  spirit  of  submission,  instead 
of  continually  grumbling  against  Providence 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  227 

and  raising  tlie  prices  of  dresses  and  every 
thing  by  their  stupid  strikes?  ". 

"You  are  entirely  right,  Miss  Van  Pelt," 
said  Mr.  Melville,  while  his  lofty  smile  per 
ceptibly  relaxed.  "It  is  what  I  have  always 
maintained — that  the  rebelliousness  of  the  la 
boring  classes  is  the  direct  result  of  the  wide 
spread  religious  unbelief  of  our  age.  That  is 
what  these  scientific  disorganizes  have  accom 
plished  by  their  wicked  speculations.  I  have 
always  been  an  adherent  of  the  good,  strong, 
old-fashioned  religions,  with  sharply  defined 
doctrines  and  tangible  hells.  I  have  myself 
built  a  mission  chapel  at  Five  Points,  and  I 
always  subscribe  liberally  to  such  objects. 
"What  we  especially  want  is  preachers  of  un 
questioned  orthodoxy,— men  who  will  lay  down 
plainly  the  doctrine  of  punishments  and  re 
wards,  who  will  maintain  strict  discipline  in 
their  flocks,  and  teach  absolute  submission  to 
the  inscrutable  ways  of  Providence." 

Mr.  Melville  had  delivered  this  little  speech 
in  a  clear  and  emphatic  voice,  and  as  he  ceased 
speaking  and  lifted  a  glass  of  sparkling  cham- 


228  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

pagne  to  his  lips,  an  audible  murmur  of  ap 
plause  ran  around  the  table. 

Anders  heard  and  understood  nearly  every 
word.  He  trembled  and  clung  convulsively 
to  the  window-sill.  There  sat  the  thief,  pros 
perous  and  honored,  and  upon  his  splendid 
board  were  heaped  up  the  toil  of  a  thousand 
crushed  and  miserable  creatures,  the  hope  and 
faith  and  happiness  of  the  hungry,  the  needy, 
and  the  oppressed, — all  to  be  devoured  in  a 
leisure  hour  by  a  company  of  idle  triflers.  It 
even  seemed  to  Anders,  as  Mr.  Melville  raised 
his  tall  champagne-glass  to  his  lips,  that  he 
was  drinking  down  his  wife's  and  his  little 
son's  future,  and  all  that  was  dear  and  precious 
to  him  in  this  world.  He  clutched  his  cane 
more  tightly,  but  still  strove  to  restrain  his 
fury. 

At  that  moment  a  tall  and  corpulent  man, 
who  sat  a  few  seats  from  the  host,  rose,  with 
some  slight  difficulty,  and  demanded  the  privi 
lege  of  expressing  the  sentiments  which,  he  felt 
assured,  animated  every  one  present  in  this  dis 
tinguished  company.  The  waiters  then  began 


A  DANGEROUS  VIETTJE.  229 

to  skip  around  the  table  ;  the  corks  popped  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  gentlemen  from  Del- 
monico's  to  restrain  their  vivacity  and  the 
sparkling  liquid  sissed  and  foamed  and 
bubbled,  and  threatened  to  overflow  the  finely 
ornamented  rims  of  the  Venetian  glasses. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  the  corpulent 
guest,  "it  is  to-day  the  sixtieth  birth-day  of 
our  honored  host,  Mr.  Eandolph  Melville.  In 
proposing  the  health  of  my  esteemed  friend,  I 
shall  take  the  liberty  to  call  your  attention  to 
some  of  those  eminent  qualities  by  which  he 
has  gained  a  well-merited  distinction  during 
his  long  career  of  public  and  private  useful 
ness.  First,  Mr.  Melville  was,  from  his  very 
cradle,  set  apart  for  a  business  man.  He  is  in 
that  respect  a  typical  American,  and  embodies 
in  his  talents  and  in  his  character  the  genius  of 
our  great  and  glorious  republic.  His  fellow- 
citizens  have  always  reposed  the  utmost  con 
fidence  in  him,  and  have  honored  him  with  a 
multitude  of  public  trusts ;  and  he  has,  by  his 
uprightness  and  unfailing  rectitude,  amply  jus 
tified  their  confidence.  His  has  been  a  life 


230  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

shining  brightly  in  the  broad  daylight  of  pub 
licity,"  etc. 

In  this  strain  Mr.  Melville's  corpulent  friend 
continued  for  more  than  fifteen  minutes;  nei 
ther  he  himself  nor  any  one  else  seemed  to 
suspect  the  faintest  shade  of  irony  in  his  so 
norous  periods.  "When  he  had  finished,  Mr. 
Melville  rose  to  respond.  His  massive  head, 
his  clear,  handsome  features,  the  expanse  of 
immaculate  shirt-bosom  which  covered  his 
broad  chest, — all  looked  wonderfully  impress 
ive.  The  clatter  of  knives  and  forks,  and  the 
hum  of  vapid  small-talk  ceased;  the  gentle 
men  threw  themselves  back  in  their  chairs, 
and  the  ladies,  with  much  rustling  of  silk  and 
satin,  settled  themselves  into  becoming  atti 
tudes  of  expectation. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  began  Mr.  Mel 
ville,  "it  is  with  deep  gratification,  and  yet 
with  a  vivid  sense  of  my  own  unworthiness, 
that  I  have  listened  to  the  remarks  of  my  es 
teemed  friend,  Mr.  Gauntlet.  I  should,  how 
ever,  do  myself  an  injustice  were  I  to  deny 
that  I  have  always  lived  and  acted  in  accord- 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  231 

ance  with  the  light  that  has  been  vouchsafed 
me ;  and  I  have  been  fully  convinced  that  the 
misfortunes  with  which  I  have  so  recently 
been  visited  have  been  the  chastening  disci 
pline  of  a  just  Providence.  And  in  this  faith 


At  that  moment  something  heavy  shook  the 
floor,  and  made  the  glasses  on  the  table  jingle ; 
before  Mr.  Melville  had  time  to  face  more  than 
half  about,  two  strong  hands  seized  him  by 
the  throat,  and  a  hoarse  voice  shouted  in  his 
ear,  "  You  lie ! "  He  saw  a  haggard  face, 
covered  with  a  disorderly  blonde  beard,  thrust 
close  up  to  his  own,  and  he  met  the  gaze  of 
two  fierce  blue  eyes  which  burned  with  an  un 
steady  fire.  The  grip  of  the  iron  fingers  tight 
ened  over  his  throat;  the  air  grew  black  be 
fore  his  eyes ;  and  in  his  struggle  to  free  him 
self  he  ground  under  his  heels  the  broken  frag 
ments  of  the  wine-glass  which  had  fallen  from 
his  hand.  The  male  guests,  who  had  been 
half  stunned  by  the  suddenness  of  the  attack, 
now  sprang  to  their  feet  and  rushed  to  Mr. 
Melville's  assistance.  One  or  two  of  the  ladies 


232  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

fainted,  and  others  fled  screaming  to  the  re 
motest  corner  of  the  room,  where  they  gath 
ered  in  a  promiscuous  embrace,  and  stared  with 
fascinated  fright  at  the  struggle  of  the  men. 
Miss  Yan  Pelt  only  had  the  presence  of  mind 
to  skip  across  the  hall  to  Mr.  Melville's  pri 
vate  library,  and  to  touch  the  electric  knob 
which  communicated  with  the  nearest  police 
station. 

The  floor  was  shaking ;  the  great  chandeliers 
under  the  ceiling  trembled ;  for  a  few  moments 
a  dozen  men  were  intertangled  in  an  inextric 
able  knot,  which  swayed  to  and  fro,  now  to 
ward  the  window,  now  toward  the  table,  until 
at  last  it  fell  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  mar 
ble  mantel-piece.  One  after  another  rose  pant 
ing,  surveyed  his  disordered  toilet  in  the  long 
mirrors,  and  muttered  a  half-suppressed  oath 
between  his  teeth.  Only  the  two  original  com 
batants  remained  motionless  ;  the  Norseman 
lay  glaring  about  him  in  vague  amazement ;  a 
shiver  ran  through  his  frame  ;  his  fury  was  ex 
pended,  and  seemed  to  have  utterly  exhausted 
him.  Mr.  Melville  lay  outstretched  at  his 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  233 

side,  drawing  now  and  then  a  long  shuddering 
breath,  and  closing  his  fingers  with  a  convul 
sive  clutch.  Two  or  three  of  his  guests  were 
bending  anxiously  over  him,  unbuttoning  his 
waistcoat,  untying  his  neck-tie,  and  feeling  his 
pulse.  Presently  three  policemen  entered ; 
they  lifted  Anders  up  and  hustled  him  roughly 
toward  the  door.  He  made  no  remonstrance  ; 
every  impulse  seemed  dead  within  him  ;  but 
suddenly,  as  they  reached  the  threshold,  he 
straightened  himself  up  to  his  full  height, 
shook  his  fist  threateningly,  and  cried,  hoarse 
ly :  "  Give  me  my  money  back  that  you  stole 
from  me  !  " 


Y. 


FOE  several  months  the  Norseman  remained 
in  the  Tombs.  No  one  offered  to  go  bail  for 
him,  nor  did  any  one  appear  to  bear  witness 
against  him.  The  monotonous  routine  of  the 
prison  and  the  degrading  companionship  with 
thieves  and  robbers  wore  out  his  hope  and  his 
courage,  and  left  nothing  but  the  indignation, 
burning  with  a  dull  but  steady  flame,  within 
him.  "With  his  elbows  propped  on  his  knees, 
and  his  two  hands  clutching  a  tuft  of  hair  on 
each  side  of  his  head,  he  sat  the  livelong  day, 
pondering  the  deep  problems  of  existence. 
With  eager  impatience  he  looked  forward  to 
the  day  of  his  trial ;  for  then,  at  last,  he  should 
have  the  chance  of  lifting  up  his  voice  loudly 
so  as  to  pierce  the  deaf  ears  of  justice.  He 
planned  in  his  own  mother  tongue  a  tremen 
dous  arraignment,  and  several  days  passed  be 
fore  it  occurred  to  him  that  American  justice 
spoke  and  understood  only  English.  Then, 

234 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  235 

with  a  miserable  sense  of  liis  helplessness,  he 
paced  the  floor  of  his  narrow  cell,  knocking  at 
times  with  his  forehead  against  the  wall,  but 
hardly  conscious  of  the  pain.  He  felt  as  if  his 
thoughts  were  wandering  beyond  his  control, 
and  only  when  the  rage  blazed  up  wildly  did  it 
light  the  dark  chambers  of  his  brain  and  en 
able  him  to  collect  his  forces  for  action.  It 
was  at  such  a  moment  that  a  key  was  heard 
clicking  in  the  lock,  and  the  consul  entered, 
followed  by  one  of  the  wardens. 

"I  have  good  news  for  you,  Mr.  Kustad," 
said  the  consul,  cheerily,  grasping  Anders's 
listless  hand.  "You  are  at  liberty  to  leave 
this  place  at  once." 

"  But,  but — the  trial,"  remonstrated  the  pris 
oner  in  a  husky  whisper. 

"There  will  be  no  trial,"  answered  the  con 
sul,  with  the  air  of  one  giving  a  very  satisfac 
tory  piece  of  intelligence.  "  There  is  no  one 
to  accuse  you." 

"  Why,  then,  have  I  been  imprisoned  ?  " 

"You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do;  and  you 
ought  to  appreciate  Mr.  Melville's  humane  and 


236  A  DANGEEOUS  VIETUE. 

merciful  spirit  in  refusing  to  appear  against 
you." 

"I  do  not  want  mercy,  but  justice!'  roared 
Anders,  springing  to  his  feet  and  shaking  his 
huge  fist  in  the  consul's  face.  "  I  want  a  trial, 
and  I  want  to  shout  my  wrong  in  the  ears  of 
the  whole  world,  and  of  God  himself." 

"Now,  now,  do  be  reasonable,  Mr.  Eustad," 
urged  the  consul.  "Only  think  of  the  hun 
dreds,  if  not  thousands,  of  poor  people  who  are 
in  the  same  predicament  as  you  are.  And  do 
they  make  such  an  ado  about  it?  No;  they 
pocket  their  ten  per  cent,  which  was  declared 
yesterday,  and  thank  God  that  anything  is  left 
to  them." 

"It  is  that  very  thought  which  maddens 
me,"  cried  the  Norseman,  still  in  a  frenzy  of 
excitement.  "Tell  me  where  they  are,  these 
poor,  deluded  people.  Let  me  find  them,  and 
I  will  shame  them  into  a  just  and  implacable 
indignation  at  their  wrongs.  I  will  make  them 
blush  at  their  paltry  spirit  in  meekly  accepting 
one  dollar  for  every  ten  which  was  their  due." 

The   consul's  face    betrayed    his  astonish- 


A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE.  237 

ment.  Was  this  the  language  of  a  simple,  un 
taught  peasant,  who  but  half  a  year  ago  had 
few  thoughts  beyond  the  common  routine  of 
agricultural  toil  ? 

"As  your  countryman,  Mr.  Rustad,  and  one 
who  wishes  you  well,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  of 
grave  remonstrance,  "  allow  me  to  implore  you 
to  do  as  they  have  done.  Accept  your  two 
hundred  dollars,  which  you  can  draw  to-mor 
row,  and  go  West." 

Anders  turned  his  back  on  the  consul  with 
disdain. 

"  You  will  not  listen,  then,  to  the  voice  of 
prudence,"  the  latter  continued,  laying  his 
hand  persuasively  on  the  peasant's  shoulder. 

"  No,  I  will  not !  "  thundered  the  Norseman. 
"  I  will  not  leave  this  place  without  a  trial,  and 
I  will  accept  nothing  but  justice." 

The  consul  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  then, 
with  a  glance  at  the  jailer,  tapped  his  forehead 
significantly.  The  jailer  nodded  as  if  to  say 
that  he  understood.  Half  an  hour  later,  An 
ders  was  forcibly  ejected  from  the  Tombs. 


YL 


HE  stood  for  a  moment,  bewildered,  in  tlie 
glare  of  the  daylight.  A  crowd  of  boot-blacks 
and  ragged  gamins  surrounded  him,  pulled  at 
his  clothes,  and  jeered  at  him  ;  but  he  hardly 
saw.  them.  The  intensity  of  his  thought  dulled 
the  outer  sense.  Twice  or  thrice  he  shook  his 
fist  at  the  heavens,  then  suddenly  started  with 
a  rapid,  feverish  stride  toward  Broadway,  and 
then  up  toward  the  fashionable  avenue.  Peo 
ple  who  saw  him  turned  to  look  after  him ;  his 
gigantic  size,  his  pale  face,  covered  with  a  dis 
orderly  beard,  and  his  lustrous  eyes  inclined 
every  one  to  change  his  course  rather  than 
risk  a  collision.  It  was  early  in  the  afternoon 
wHen  Anders,  without  having  paused  for  one 
instant  in  his  march,  reached  Mr.  Melville's 
brown-stone  palace  on  the  avenue.  A  beauti 
ful  carriage  was  standing  before  the  door,  and 
the  two  coachmen,  themselves  as  shiny  and 
well-groomed  as  their  horses,  were  seated  with 

238 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  239 

an  air  of  severe  propriety  on  the  box.  Cast 
ing  them  a  glance,  full  of  hate  and  contempt, 
Anders  leaped  up  the  front  steps,  just  as  Mr. 
Melville  himself,  with  a  whip  in  his  hand,  and 
in  the  jauntiest  of  English  driving  costumes, 
opened  the  door  from  within.  Seeing  the  ter 
rible  Norseman  before  him,  he  raised  his  whip 
threateningly  ;  an  expression  of  anger  or  of 
terror,  or  of  both,  passed  over  his  face,  and  he 
seemed  on  the  point  of  beating  a  retreat.  But 
suddenly  his  wrath  overmastered  his  fear,  and 
swiftly  reversing  his  whip  he  brought  down 
the  butt-end  with  a  vigorous  blow  on  his  op 
ponent's  head.  Anders  reeled,  but,  instantly 
recovering  his  equilibrium,  he  darted  forward 
and  planted  his  huge  fist  in  the  bankers  fore 
head.  It  grew  black  before  Mr.  Melville's  eyes ; 
he  tottered,  and,  in  his  effort  to  keep  his  foot 
ing,  wheeled  around  toward  the  edge  of  the 
stone  steps,  and  fell  backward.  It  was  all  the 
work  of  one  brief  moment.  The  grooms  scram 
bled  down  from  their  seats,  but  they  came  just 
a  second  too  late  to  catch  their  master  in  his 
fall.  The  blood  flowed  from  an  ugly  gash  in 


24:0  A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE. 

his  head ;  a  convulsive  movement  ran  through 
his  frame ;  then  his  features  stiffened.  He 
was  dead.  Anders  stood  with  folded  arms  at 
the  top  of  the  stairs  and  looked  steadfastly 
down  upon  the  prostrate  form.  He  was  con 
scious  of  no  joy  or  exultation,  but  rather  of  a 
fierce  contentment  that  justice  at  last  had  been 
satisfied.  The  world  seemed  for  one  moment 
right. 

He  had  no  thought  of  himself  or  of  his  own 
fate ;  it  was  the  world's  fate,  and  the  fate  of 
the  millions  who  suffered,  mutely  and  without 
thought  of  revenge — it  was  this  which  con 
cerned  him.  He  could  have  marched  to -the 
stake  unquailingly  while  this  mood  lasted. 
"When  the  policemen  arrived,  he  followed  them 
without  resistance,  and  his  simple  dignity  even 
commanded  some  degree  of  respect.  The  fever 
in  his  blood  had  cooled,  and  a  great  calm 
reigned  in  its  place.  But  it  was  not  of  long 
duration.  As  soon  as  the  heavy  iron  doors 
had  closed  upon  him,  and  the  daylight  fell 
sparingly  through  the  thick  bars  of  the  win 
dow-gratings,  his  mind  resumed  its  former 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  241 

intense  activity,  and  all  the  problems  of  the 
universe  seemed  to  rush  in  upon  him,  crying 
for  a  solution.  Strange  to  say,  the  memory  of 
his  dear  ones  at  home  was  well-nigh  oblite 
rated  in  his  soul.  It  was  the  love  of  wife  and 
child  which  had  driven  him  aAvay  from  his 
snug  hearth  and  out  into  the  merciless  world, 
and  it  was  the  thought  of  them  which  had 
made  his  misfortune  tenfold  more  cruel  and  ap 
palling.  Now  they  seemed  like  a  dim  memory, 
which  had  no  longer  the  power  to  arouse  him. 
But  the  wrong,  the  brutal,  fiendish  wrong  !— 
this  had  become  wife  and  child  to  him,  and  he 
nursed  it  tenderly  in  his  bosom. 

The  winter  passed,  and  the  day  for  the  trial 
was  appointed.  In  the  midst  of  his  gloom  he 
looked  forward  to  that  day  with  triumphant 
anticipation.  He  had  spent  the  winter  in  dili 
gent  study  of  English,  and  had  drawn  up  a 
document  in  that  tongue,  which  was  to  be  read 
in  the  presence  of  the  jury.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  its  charges  were  unanswerable  and  its 
logic  irresistible ;  he  even  prided  himself  a  lit 
tle  on  the  eloquence  of  certain  passages  from 
10 


242  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

which,  especially,  he  promised  himself  a  start 
ling  effect.  He  was  yet  confident  that  the 
abuses  which  he  pointed  out  needed  only  to 
be  generally  known  to  be  instantly  rectified; 
and  it  hardly  occurred  to  him  that  it  was  he 
himself,  and  not  the  dead  man,  who  was  to  be 
tried.  The  consul  had  engaged  a  skillful  law 
yer  to  defend  him,  and  even  volunteered  to 
bear  part  of  the  expense.  They  had  agreed  to 
set  up  the  plea  of  insanity,  and  had  appointed 
an  interview  with  Anders  at  the  prison,  in  or 
der  to  ask  some  questions  and  to  give  him  the 
necessary  instructions.  He  was  conducted  into 
their  presence  by  the  jailer,  who  remained  at 
the  door  while  the  conversation  lasted. 

"  You  have  changed  much  during  these 
months,  Mr.  Eustad,"  said  the  consul,  after 
having  introduced  Mr.  Eunyon,  the  lawyer, 
"and  not  for  the  better;  you  should  sleep 
more  and  think  less.  "We  are  going  to  get  you 
out  of  this  scrape  all  right ;  you  need  have  no 
fear." 

"  I  have  no  fear,  Mr.  Consul,"  answered  An 
ders,  firmly. 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  243 

"  But  you  must  follow  our  instructions  im 
plicitly,"  put  in  the  lawyer,  "  or  you  may  spoil 
everything.  You  know  this  is  a  matter  of  life 
and  death." 

"  And  what  are  your  instructions  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  we  have  agreed  that  we 
have  the  best  chance  of  success  with  the  plea 
of  insanity." 

"Insanity?" 

"Yes,  insanity." 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  am  insane  ?  " 

Anders  took  two  long  strides  toward  the 
lawyer,  who  lifted  his  arms,  as  if  in  defence, 
and  retreated  toward  the  wall.  The  guard 
rushed  forward,  seized  the  Norseman  by  the 
shoulder,  and  pulled  him  back. 

"  Now,  now,  my  dear  Mr.  Kustad,"  cried  the 
consul,  "  you  must  keep  your  temper  under 
control,  or  we  shall  never  get  along." 

The  lawyer  again,  though  with  an  uneasy 
air,  resumed  his  seat  afc  the  consul's  side  at 
the  table. 

"  As  I  was  saying,"  he  began,  playing  ner 
vously  with  his  pencil,  "  it  is  not  the  question 


244  A  DANGEKOUS  VIRTUE. 

whether  the  consul  and  I  believe  you  insane. 
Of  course,  between  us,  we  do  not.  But  the 
important  point  is  to  persuade  the  jury  that 
you  are  insane." 

The  consul,  who  was  anxiously  watching  the 
prisoner,  observed  again  a  threatening  look  in 
his  eyes,  and  made  haste  to  interpose  : 

"You  understand,  Mr.  Eustad,"  he  said,  in 
his  pleasant,  soothing  voice,  "  that  the  laws  of 
this  country  require  peculiar  means  to  be  re 
sorted  to,  and  I  solemnly  assure  you  that  the 
plea  of  insanity  (which,  in  your  case,  can  very 
easily  be  defended)  is  your  only  escape  from 
the  gallows." 

"If  it  is  just  that  I  die,  then  let  me  die," 
answered  the  peasant,  calmly.  "But  I  will 
not  owe  my  life  to  a  lie." 

The  lawyer,  still  playing  with  his  pencil, 
leaned  over  toward  the  consul  and  whispered 
in  his  ear.  The  consul  nodded,  then  said  aloud : 

"  "Well,  Mr.  Eustad,  we  have  done  the  best 
we  can  for  you.  If  you  wish  to  stand  friend 
less  and  take  your  life  into  your  own  hands, 
then,  of  course,  you  are  at  liberty  to  do  so." 


A   DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  245 

The  consul  and  the  lawyer  rose  to  go. 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Consul,"  Anders  called 
after  him.  "  Here  I  have  drawn  up  my  own 
defence,  which  I  wish  you  and  the  gentleman 
here  to  read.  It  is  in  this  way  I  wish  to  be 
defended." 

He  placed  a  large  roll  of  paper  on  the  table, 
and  the  two  others  hastened  up  to  examine  it. 
The  lawyer,  who  was  gazing  at  the  opening 
page  over  the  consul's  shoulder,  suddenly 
wheeled  around  upon  his  heel  and  burst  into 
a  ringing  laugh.  The  consul,  too,  was  obliged 
to  smile  at  the  curious  English,  while  at  the 
same  time  the  primitive  force  and  tremendous 
sincerity  of  the  argument,  not  to  speak  of  the 
entire  absence  of  legal  form,  moved  him  to 
mingled  admiration  and  pity. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Kustad,"  he  said,  "it  will 
never  do  to  present  this  document." 

"  Yes,  yes,  it  will,"  cried  Mr.  Eunyon,  gayly, 
snatching  up  the  paper  and  putting  it  into  his 
pocket.  "  By  means  of  this  document  I  shall 
establish,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  the 
fact  of  my  client's  insanity,  before  judge  and 


246  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

jury,  and  I  will  bet  against  heavy  odds,  if  any 
one  has  a  mind  to  take  me  up." 

And  the  lawyer,  still  greatly  amused, 
dragged  the  consul  with  him  through  the  open 
door,  leaving  the  Norseman  alone  with  the 
jailer. 


VII. 

THE  day  for  the  trial  arrived ;  Anders's  ar 
raignment  of  society  in  the  person  of  Mr.  Mel 
ville  was  read  by  his  counsel,  and  excited 
much  merriment  among  the  lawyers  and  as 
tonishment  among  the  jurymen.  The  quaint 
phraseology  and  occasional  misapplication  of 
English  words  called  forth  peals  of  laughter ; 
and  in  spite  of  the  judge's  endeavor  to  main 
tain  order,  he  was  sometimes  obliged  to  relax 
his  stern  judicial  mien  into  something  resem 
bling  a  smile.  Thus,  when  the  defendant 
spoke  of  "  the  beards  of  adversity  "  for  "  the 
barbs  of  adversity,"  and  described  the  de 
ceased  bank  president  as  having  been  "  per 
forated  with  moral  rottenness,"  while  walking 
in  the  "  slimy  paths  of  perfidy,"  the  court  must 
have  been  more  than  human  to  conquer  its 
disposition  to  laugh. 

Anders  sat  pale  and  defiant  in  the  prisoner's 
box,  but  gradually,  as  the  laughter  became 

247 


248  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

more  frequent,  a  look  of  helpless  perplexity 
settled  upon  his  features.  He  was  passionate 
ly  convinced  of  being  in  the  right,  and  if  the 
world  was  out  of  gear,  it  was  the  world  that 
was  ridiculous,  and  not  he.  His  gaze  was 
fixed  with  anxious  intensity  on  the  faces  of  the 
twelve  jurymen,  to  whom,  as  representatives 
of  the  American  people,  a  peculiar  sanctity  at 
tached.  He  had  a  dim  notion  that  they  had 
been  elected  for  the  purpose  of  trying  him  by 
the  suffrage  of  the  whole  nation,  very  much 
as  are  the  President  and  the  Vice-Presi'clent. 
They,  he  hoped,  would  be  superior  to  this  un 
dignified  merry-making  ;  they  would  see  clear 
ly  the  justice  of  his  cause,  and  the  dishonesty 
and  insolence  of  the  lawyer  who  was  trying  to 
prove  him  insane.  He  saw  them  retire  in  or 
der  to  deliberate  ;  but  hardly  five  minutes  had 
elapsed  before  they  all  reappeared,  and  one  of 
them,  who  seemed  to  be  stouter  and  redder 
than  the  rest,  addressed  the  judge  in  a  pom 
pous  voice,  declaring  the  prisoner  to  be  "  not 
guilty." 
1  "Not  guilty" — no,  to  be  sure  he  was  not 


A  DANGEROUS  YIRTUE.  249 

guilty.  It  was  Mr.  Melville  wlio  was  guilty, 
and  it  was  a  pity  lie  was  not  here  to  be  tried. 
Then,  after  all,  there  was  a  spark  of  right  and 
justice  remaining  in  the  world.  At  that  mo 
ment  the  consul  and  Mr.  Runyon  came  rush 
ing  up  to  him  with  extended  hands. 

"  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Bus  tad," 
said  the  consul.  "  You  ought  to  thank  this 
gentleman  heartily  for  his  able  efforts  in  your 
behalf." 

"•You  see,  after  all  we  managed  to  prove 
you  insane,"  whispered  the  lawyer,  facetiously, 
—  "  or  rather,  as  I  expected,  you  proved  your 
self  to  be  insane  without  much  assistance  on 
my  part." 

Anders  suddenly  saw  the  logic  of  the  situa 
tion.  In  pronouncing  him  "  not  guilty,"  the 
jury  had  merely  excused  Iris,  deed  by  declaring 
that  he  was  not  responsible  for  it ;  they  had 
accepted  Mr.  Eunyon's  plea  that  he  was  in 
sane.  Heart-sick  and  miserable,  he  turned 
away,  and  under  the  escort  of  two  policemen 
walked  out  of  the  court-room.  It  was  too  late 
in  the  day  to  make  out  his  papers  of  dis- 


250  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

charge,  and  lie  was  therefore  conducted  to  a 
much  roomier  and  more  comfortable  cell, 
where  he  was  only  to  spend  the  night.  He 
flung  himself  on  the  bed,  and  motioned  to  the 
policemen  to  leave  him  alone.  He  felt  as  if 
something  had  snapped  within  him  like  the 
spring  in  a  watch,  and  left  the  vital  machinery 
hopelessly  out  of  gear.  He  got  up  merely  to 
try  if  he  could  hold  himself  erect,  but  his 
motions  were  those  of  an  old  man.  All  his 
confidence  in  his  strength  had  deserted  him. 
Presently  his  head  began  to  swim,  and  a  vapor 
gathered  before  his  eyes.  He  let  himself  sink 
down  again  upon  the  couch. 

Ten  days  later,— it  was  one  of  those  early 
days  in  May  when  earth  and  sky  seem  to  be 
united  in  one  joyous  harmony, — a  peasant  wo 
man,  in  Norse  costume,  called  at  the  Tombs, 
and  inquired  for  Anders  Eustad.  She  was 
carrying  a  chubby  little  boy,  about  eighteen 
months  old,  on  her  arm.  She  smoothed  the 
child's  hair  carefully  with  her  hand,  while 
waiting  for  the  reply  of  the  door-keeper. 

"Anders   Eustad,"   she   said,  with   anxious 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  251 

inquiry  in  her  voice  and  eyes.  "  Anders  Eus- 
tad." 

"  Anders  Eustad  is  pretty  low  to-day,"  said 
a  man  who  had  been  summoned  by  the  door 
keeper.  "He  can't  see  nobody." 

The  young  woman  shook  her  head  with  a 
puzzled  air.  She  did  not  understand.  For 
three  days  she  kept  returning,  and  at  last 
seated  herself  patiently  on  the  curb-stone, 
waiting  to  be  admitted.  Whenever  the  gate 
was  opened,  she  rushed  forward  and  cried : 

"  Anders  Eustad  !  Anders  Eustad  !  " 

But  she  received  no  reply.  It  was  toward 
evening  on  the  fourth  day  that  the  consul,  ac 
companied  by  a  physician,  stepped  from  his 
coupe  in  front  of  the  prison.  Seeing  the  peas 
ant  woman,  whose  Norse  costume  caught  his 
eye,  he  addressed  her  and  asked  her  who  she 
was. 

"Anders  Eustad,"  she  said;  "Anders  Eus 
tad.  He  is  my  husband.  This  is  my  child 
and  his." 

The'  consul  beckoned  to  her  to  follow  him, 
and  she  kept  close  to  his  heels  while  they 


252  A  DANGEROUS  VIETUE. 

mounted  the  stairs  and  walked  through  the 
long  and  gloomy  galleries. 

They  stopped  before  the  door  of  a  cell, 
which  was  promptly  opened.  A  dim  lamp 
burned  on  a  dirty-looking  table,  and  there  was 
a  strong  odor  of  kerosene  in  the  room.  Anders 
lay  outstretched,  pale  and  calm,  on  the  iron 
bed.  There  was  a  pained  resignation  visible 
in  his  features,  across  which  nickered  now  and 
then  a  fleeting  gleam  of  a  thought. 

"  Here  is  your  wife,  Mr.  Rustad,"  said  the 
consul,  leading  the  woman  up  to  the  bedside. 
"  And  here  is  your  little  son." 

The  sick  man  turned  his  eyes  in  a  tired, 
spiritless  fashion,  and  fixed  them  upon  his 
wife  and  child.  The  same  puzzled  look  which, 
except  in  his  moments  of  defiance,  had  of  late 
become  habitual  with  him,  slowly  contracted 
his  brow,  and  he  seemed  to  be  struggling  with 
some  remote  memory.  The  woman,  too,  seem 
ed  half-frightened,  as  if  doubtful  whether  this 
haggard  man,  with  the  terrible  eyes  and  un 
kempt  beard  and  hair,  could  really  be  the 
strong  and  cheerful  husband  who,  but  a  year 


A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE.  253 

ago,  had  gone  out  into  the  world  to  prepare 
a  home  for  her.  She  stood  for  a  while  anx 
iously  scrutinizing  his  features,  then  retired 
step  by  step  toward  the  door,  holding  the 
child  firmly  clasped  in  her  embrace. 

"  This  is  not  my  husband,"  she  said  to  the 
consul,  struggling  with  her  tears,  which  were 
in  her  voice  rather  than  in  her  eyes.  "  But  I 
am  going  out  to  seek  him." 

"  This  is  Anders  Eustad,"  said  the  consul ; 
"and  if  you  are  his  wife,  this  is  your  last 
chance  to  bid  him  farewell  in  this  world." 

The  woman  once  more  drew  near  to  the  bed, 
gazed  once  more,  and  shuddered.  The  child 
began  to  cry  piteously,  and,  hushing  it  at  her 
bosom,  she  hastened  out  of  the  room. 

"  That  was  his  wife,"  said  the  consul  to  the 
physician. 

"  Poor  thing  !  "  sighed  the  latter  ;  "  she  did 
not  know  him." 

He  stooped  down  to  feel  the  sick  man's 
pulse.  "  He  is  sinking  rapidly,"  he  whispered. 
"It  will  be  over  soon." 

"  Do  you  know  what  caused  his  death,  doc- 


254  A  DANGEROUS  VIRTUE. 

tor  ?  "  asked  the  consul,  after  a  long  pause, 
just  as  the  last  spark  of  life  seemed  to  be  flick 
ering  in  the  stiffening  features. 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor. 

"It  was  the  over-development  of  a  virtue 
His  sense  of  justice  killed  him." 


WOMAN'S  HANDIWORK 

IN  MODERN  HOMES. 

BY 
CONSTANCE  GARY  HARRISON. 

One  Volume,  8vo,  Richly  Bound  in  Illuminated  Cloth,    with  numerous   Illustrations 

and  Five  Colored  Plates  from  designs  by  SAMUEL  COLMAN,  ROSINA 

EMMET,  GEORGE  GIBSON,  and  others. 

Price,   $2.00. 


Mrs.  Harrison's  book  combines  a  discussion  of  the  prin 
ciples  of  design  and  decoration,  practical  chapters  on 
embroidery,  painting  on  silk  and  china,  etc.,  with  most 
helpful  hints  as  to  the  domestic  manufacture  of  many  objects 
of  use  and  beauty  in  house-furnishing,  and  also  suggestions 
for  the  arrangement  and  decoration  of  rooms  in  the  details 
of  screens,  portieres,  the  mantel-piece,  etc. 


CRITICAL     NOTICES. 

"A  volume  quite  the  most  comprehensive  of  its  kind  ever  published." — The  Art 
Interchange. 

"  It  is,  indeed,  the  most  comprehensive  and  practical  guide  to  the  amateur  decorative 
arts  that  has  yet  appeared.11— Art  Amateur. 

"The  work  supplies  a  current  need  of  the  day,  which  nothing  else  has  met." — Boston 
Traveller. 

"Unquestionably  one  of  the  very  best  of  its  class  that  we  have.1'— TV.  Y.  Evening 
Post. 

"  Mrs.  Harrison  has  grouped  together  in  her  book  about  as  much  useful  information 
as  it  is  possible  to  get  together  in  the  same  number  of  pages." — Baltimore  Gazette. 

"Mrs.  Harrison's  book  is  one  of  the  very  few  books  on  household  art  which  can 
be  unreservedly  commended." — The  World. 

"Mrs.  Harrison's  suggestions  are  within  the  reach  of  the  most  limited  means." — 
The  Critic. 

"  Full  of  suggestions,  descriptions,  and  illustrations,  of  the  kind  that  fasc;nate  all 
those  whose  chief  joy  is  in  making  home  beautiful  and  happy." — N.  Y.  Observer. 

"  Everything  important  that  relates  to  the  furnishing  and  ornamentation  of  houses 
will  be  found  in  this  work,  which  is  rich  in  important  information,  and  noticeable  for  its 
good  taste,  sound  judgment,  and  practical  wisdom." — Boston  Saturday  Eve.  Gazette. 

"  Mrs.  Harrison  seems  to  have  included  in  her  work  instructions  for  every  aesthetic 
emergency  that  can  arise  in  a  household."— Providence  Journal. 


***  For  sale  by  all  booksellers,    or  sent,  post-paid,    upon  receipt    of 
frice,  by 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


THE    GRANDISSIMES. 

A    STORY    OF    CREOLE    LIFE. 

By    GEORGE    W.     CABLE, 

Author  of  "  Old  Creole  Days." 


One  Volume,  12mo,  extra  cloth, $1.5O. 


The  extraordinary  interest  excited  by  Mr.  Cable's  sketches  of  life  in  the 
old  French  quarter  of  New  Orleans,  in  his  first  book,  "  Old  Creole  Days," 
will  be  still  further  aroused  by  his  novel  of  Creole  life. 

The  scene  of  the  story  is  laid  in  New  Orleans,  in  the  earlier  years  of  the 
century,  at  the  time  of  the  cession  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States  by 
Napoleon.  With  wonderful  delicacy  of  touch,  Mr.  Cable  outlines  his  plot, 
portraying  the  stubborn  adherence  of  the  Creoles  to  the  old  regime,  their 
unwillingness  to  enter  the  Union,  the  feud  of  the  Grandissimes  and  the 
Fusiliers,  and  its  far-reaching  consequences.  All  the  characters  of  the  story 
have  an  originality  and  distinctness  that  make  them  veritable  creations. 


"  Such  a  book  goes  far  towards  establishing  an  epoch  in  fiction,  and  it  places  it  be 
yond  a  doubt  that  we  have  in  Mr.  Cable  a  novelist  of  positive  originality,  and  of  the  very 
first  quality." — Boston  Journal. 

"  It  will  be  difficult  to  point  to  anything  more  vigorously  dramatic  in  our  best  writers 
than  '  The  Story  of  Bras-Coupe,'  forming  chapters  twenty-eight  and  twenty-nine. — Bos 
ton  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"  'The  Grandissimes  '  is  simply  a  wonderful  romance-^the  work  of  an  undoubted  ge 
nius — a  new  novelist  of  remarkable  power,  claims  the  attention  of  the  American  public. 
It  bears  its  special  stamp  as  markedly  as  did  Gottschalk's  music." —  New  York  Times. 

"  In  point  of  steady,  continued  po  wer,  displayed  alike  in  plot  and  description,  in  point 
of  the  rarest  local  coloring  evidently  derived  from  the  closest  study  and  observation  of 
Creole  life,  we  rank  this  book  as  among  the  very  first  of  American  fictions." — Christian 
In  telligencer. 

"  Mr.  Cable  shows  the  instincts  of  a  thorough  artist,  as  well  as  the  genius  of  a  nov 
elist  of  the  first  rank.  .  .  .  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  two  lovelier  types  of  woman 
hood  than  the  youthful  widow  Aurore  and  her  daughter  Clotilde,  or  a  stronger,  more  ma 
jestic  specimen  of  the  thorough  gentleman  than  Honore  Graudissime. — Baltimore  Ga 
zette. 

"  'The  Grandissimes1  is  a  novel  that  repays  study.  It  opens  to  most  of  us  an  un 
known  society,  an  unknown  world,  absolutely  fresh  characters,  a  dialect  of  which  we  had 
only  fragments  before,  and  it  illuminates  a  historical  period  that  was  in  the  dark  .  .  . 
It  is,  in  many  respects,  the  most  original  contribution  to  American  fiction."— Hartford 
Courant. 

"  There  are  few  living  American  writers  who  can  reproduce  for  us  more  perfectly  than 
Mr.  Cable  does, in  his  best  moments,  the  speech,  the  manners,  the  whole  social  atmosphere 
of  a  remote  time  and  a  peculiar  people.  Characters  stand  out  from  his  pages  with  a  life 
like  distinctness  ;  and  in  their  dialogue  we  hear  the  very  tones  of  their  voice  and  catch 
the  eccentr, cities  of  their  accent.  A  delicious  flavor  of  humor  penetrates  the  story  ;  and 
the  tragic  portions  .  .  .  are  handled  with  rare  strength." — New  York  Tribune. 


*#*  For  sale  by  all   booksellers,    or    sent,   post-paid,    upon   receipt   of 
•price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


ARMY  LIFE  IN  RUSSIA. 

By    F.    V.    GREENE, 

LIEUTENANT  OF  ENGINEERS,  UNITED  STATES  ARMY, 

Late  Military  Attache  to  the   U.  S.  Legation  in  St.  Petersburg*  and  author  oj 
"  The  Russian  Army  and  its  Campaigns  in  Turkey  in  1877-78." 


One  Volume,  12mo,     ....     $1.50. 

Lieutenant  Greene's  opportunities  for  general  as  well  as  technical 
observation  while  with  the  Russian  army  in  Turkey  were  such  as  have 
perhaps  never  fallen  to  any  other  student  of  the  war.  The  story  of  this 
personal  experience  is  embodied  in  this  volume,  which  contains  most 
vigorous  and  vivid  descriptions  of  battle  scenes,  in  the  chapters  on  the 
Shipka  Pass,  Plevna,  and  in  the  very  strong  and  excellent  chapter  on  the 
winter  campaign  across  the  Balkans  with  Gourko.  The  chapters  on  the 
Tsar  and  the  Russian  generals,  and  the  sections  devoted  to  the  Russian 
soldier,  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  the  army  life  of  the  Russian  at  home,  are  of 
absorbing  interest. 


"  His  sketches  are  excellently  well  done,  graphic,  evidently  not  exaggerated,  and 
very  readable.  It  is  a  book  that  will  be  read  with  pleasure,  and  one  that  contains  a 
great  deal  of  information." — Hartford  Courant. 

"This  volume  is  in  every  way  an  admirable  picture  of  army  life  in  Russia.  It  is 
clear,  concise,  discriminating,  and  often  very  picturesque.  The  author,  besides  pos 
sessing  an  excellent  style,  is  extremely  modest,  and  there  are  very  few  books  of  travel 
in  which  the  first  person  is  kept  so  absolutely  in  the  background." — International 
Review. 

"  Lieutenant  Greene  writes  in  a  soldierly  way,  unaffected,  straightforward,  and 
graphic,  and,  though  he  has  a  keen  eye  for  the  picturesque,  never  sacrifices  to  rhetoric 
the  absolute  truthfulness  so  eminently  to  be  desired  in  a  narrative  of  this  sort. — Neiu 
York  World. 

"  He  was  with  the  Russian  army  throughout  the  campaign,  enjoying  perfect  free 
dom  of  movement,  having  every  opportunity  to  visit  the  points  of  greatest  activity,  and 
to  see  the  operations  of  greatest  moment,  in  company  with  the  officers  who  conducted 
them.  His  book  is,  therefore,  for  all  the  purposes  of  ordinary  readers,  a  complete  and 
satisfactory  history  of  the  war,  founded  upon  intimate  personal  knowledge  of  its  events, 
and  of  its  spirit  It  is  a  work  of  the  rarest  interest  and  of  unusual  merit." — Neiu  York 
Evening  Post. 

"It  is  most  fortunate  for  the  reputation  of  our  country  and  our  army  that  we  had 
such  an  officer  to  send  to  the  far-away  land  of  Turkey  in  Europe,  and  most  creditable  to 
our  War  Department  that  it  sent  such  a  man.  His  book  deseves  to  be  universally  read, 
and  we  are  sure  that  no  person  whom  these  lines  may  lead  to  purchase  it  will  fail  to 
rejoice  that  they  have  been  written." — The  Nation. 


*#*  For    sale  by    all   booksellers,  or    sent,  post-paid,  upon    receipt   o/ 
price,  by 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


OLD  CREOLE  DAYS. 


BY 


GEORGE   W.  CABLE. 

One  Volume,  16mo,  extra  cloth,       ...       $1.OO. 


Mr.  Cable's  sketches  of  life  in  the  old  French  quarter  of  New  Orleans 
display  a  ireshness  and  originality,  an  insight  into  the  character  of  the 
mixed  races  there,  and  a  faculty  of  seizing  on  the  picturesque  phases  of 
life  among  these  oddly  contrasted  people,  that  give  them  an  importance 
far  ibove  their  value  as  a  mere  collection  of  clever  stories.  "  Sieur 
George,"  "  Madame  Delicieuse,"  "  Jean-ah  Poquelin,"  and  "The  Belles 
Demoiselles'  Plantation,"  are  some  of  the  stories  included — carrying  even 
in  their  titles  some  of  their  quaint  attractiveness. 

CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

14  It  is  very  seldom  indeed  that  we  meet  with  a  book  so  distinctly  marking  the  advent 
of  a  writer  of  high  artistic  power  and  fresh  observation,  as  this  of  Mr.  Cable's.  After 
re-reading  carefully,  and  with  the  keenest  enjoyment,  the  stories  now  collected  under  one 
heading,  we  not  only  have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  their  author  a  genius  with  special 
and  captivating  endowments,  but  we  feel  it  an  imperative  critical  duty  to  so  declare  him." 

— Boston  Courier. 

"  Mr.  Cable  has  the  rare  gift  of  keen  observation  united  to  great  descriptive  power. 
.  .  .  He  has  portrayed  the  character  of  the  remnant  of  France  stranded  on  a  foreign 
shore,  in  so  many  aspects,  that  the  reader  gains  a  most  perfect  idea  of  the  strange  com 
pound  of  courtesy  and  selfishness,  of  grace  and  untruthfulness,  of  bravery  and  cunning, 
which  that  character  presents.  .  .  The  stories,  themselves,  display  an  inventive  genius 
which  ranks  the  author  among  the  best  of  our  modern  writers." — Christian  Inttlligencer, 

"These  charming  stories  attract  attention  and  commendation  by  their  quaint  delicacy 
of  style,  their  faithful  delineation  of  Creole  character,  and  a  marked  originality.  The 
carelul  rendering  of  the  dialect  reveals  patient  study  of  living  models  ;  and  to  any  reader 
whose  ear  is  accustomed  to  the  broken  English,  as  heard  in  the  parts  of  our  city  every 
day,  its  truth  to  nature  is  striking." — New  Orleans  Picayune. 

"  Here  is  true  art  work.  Here  is  poetry,  pathos,  tragedy,  humor.  Here  is  an  entranc 
ing  style.  Here  is  a  new  field,  one  full  of  passion  and  beauty.  Here  is  local  color  with 
strong  drawing.  Here,  in  this  little  volume,  is  life,  breath,  and  blood.  The  author  ol 
this  book  is  an  artist,  and  over  such  a  revelation  one  may  be  permitted  strong  words." 

— Cincinnati  Times 

"To  a  keen  zest  for  what  is  antique  and  picturesque,  Mr.  Cable  adds  a  surprising 
skill,  for  so  young  a  writer,  in  conceiving  and  developing  a  plot.  .  .  .  He  has  ren 
dered  very  finely  the  attractive  childlike  quality  so  often  seen  among  men  of  Latin  races, 
and  as  to  his  women,  they  are  as  delightful  as  the  scent  of  the  flowers  which  he  mention* 
every  now  and  then." — N.  Y.  Times. 

"  The  seven  sketches  which  compose  this  bright  little  volume  are  full  of  a  delicate  pathetk 
humor  which  has  rarely  been  equaled  in  American  Literature." — Detroit  Free  Press, 

"  These  half-pathetic,  half-humorous,  and  altogether  delicate  sketches,  constitute 
extremely  good  literature.  .  .  .  There  is  the  touch  of  a  true  artist  in  them." — Ev.  Post. 

"These  stories  contain  a  most  attractive  blending  of  vivid  descriptions  of  local  scenery 
with  admirable  delineations  of  personal  character." — Congregationalis*. 

*$*  The  above  book  for  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  le  sent,  j>rej>aidt  aufo* 
**<&  offrice,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  Tout 


KNIGHTS   OF  TO-DAY; 

OR,  LOVE  AND  SCIENCE. 
By    CHARLES     BARNARD. 


One  Volume,  Square  ISrno,     .     .     $1.OO. 


Mr.  Barnard's  stories  are  in  a  new  field  of  romance,  in  which 
courage  and  quickness  of  resource  work  through  the  most  modern 
weapons,  and  the  quick-witted  American  knight  of  to-day  has 
taken  up  the  new  arms  of  the  new  times — the  steam-engine,  the 
telegraph,  heliograph,  camera,  and  switch-rod,  to  do  and  dare  for 
love  and  duty. 

"  They  are  strong,  well-written,  and  pathetic  stories,  brimful  of  action  and  interest." 
—Charleston  News  and  Courier. 

"A  pleasanter  book  of  light  reading  has  not  been  printed  in  this  year  of  grace  than 
Mr.  Barnard's  '  Knights  of  To-day.'  " — Roc/tester  Herald. 

"  Mr.  Barnard  is  one  of  the  best  of  our  short  story  tellers,  and  this  little  volume  will 
be  heartily  welcomed  by  his  many  admirers." — Boston  Transcript. 

"The  book  is  not  alone  capable  of  giving  pleasure,  but  it  possesses  merit  beyond  idle 
gratification  ;  for  it  suggests,  even  to  the  thoughtless,  the  romantic  possibilities  of  the  fu 
ture." — Inter-Ocean,  (Denver,  Col-) 

"A  volume  of  dashing,  lively  stories,  in  which  the  romance  of  love  is  mingled  with  the 
romance  of  science  in  perfectly  artistic  proportions.  The  stories  are  really  fascinating." 
— Cincinnati  Commercial. 

"They  are  strong  and  well-written  stories,  with  plenty  of  action  to  keep  the  interest 
from  flagging,  and  they  are  made  instructive  from  the  important  part  which  modern  sci 
ence  plays  in  the  development  of  the  plot." — Washington  National  Republican. 

"  Each  story  has  for  its  point  the  application  of  some  scientific  matter  in  furtherance 
of  love's  mission,  and  the  appropriateness  of  each  coincidence  throws  a  spice  into  the 
whole  that  is  delicious." — Pittsburgh  Telegraph. 

"  Seven  capital  little  romantic  stories  by  Charles  Barnard  .  .  .  have  been  collected 
and  printed  in  a  characteristically  bound  volume.  They  are  stories  of  the  railroad  and 
telegraph,  and  some  of  the  descriptions  of  dangers  occurring  and  accidents  averted  by 
the  heroes  and  heroines  of  the  rail  and  wire  make  the  reader  almost  breathless  as  he  reads 
them.  There  is  real  feeling  and  dramatic  power,  not  unmiugled  with  humor,  in  these 
lively  litt'.e  romances." — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"That  the  novelist  of  the  future  has  a  great  field  before  him  in  the  application  of  prac 
tical  science  to  the  mysteries  of  love,  Mr.  Charles  Barnard's  'Knights  of  To-  Day '  goes 
far  to  demonstrate.  In  the  stories  collected  under  this  title,  Cupid  no  longer  wields  ihe 
old-fashioned  clumsy  bow  and  arrow — he  avails  himself  of  electricity  and  the  Morse  al 
phabet,  the  photographer's  camera,  the  stereopticon,  and  pierces  the  heart  of  his  victim 
with  a  ray  from  the  heliograph.  The  novelty  of  these  tales  is  refreshingk  Young  people 
will  enjoy  them,  and  learn  something  of  the  fascination  of  scientific  pursuits  at  the  same 
time."— Boston  Traveller. 

*%*  For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  upon  receipt  of 
price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


TURKISH  LIFE  IN  WAR  TIME. 

By    HENRY    O.    DWIGHT. 


One  Volume,  12mo, $1.50. 

Mr.  Dwight's  familiarity  with  the  languages  and  manners  of  the  capital, 
and  his  numerous  sources  of  information  from  almost  all  parts  of  Turkey, 
have  enabled  him  to  give  a  most  faithful  account  of  the  transactions  of  the 
war  as  seen  from  a  Turkish  point  of  view,  and  also  incidentally  to  put  his 
reader  in  possession  of  much  information  respecting  the  motley  races  under 
Turkish  rule. 

"The work  can  be  especially  commended  as  a  graphic,  and  clear,  and  never-wearying 
story." — N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"The  book  fills  a  place  in  the  literature  relating  to  its  subject  which,  so  far  as  we  can 
judge,  would  be  empty  without  it." — Boston  Congregationalist. 

"  It  is  even  more  charming  than  a  good  book  of  travel ;  for  the  author  pictures  scenes 
with  which  he  is  familiar,  and  knows  the  full  value  of  every  incident  he  records." — Cin 
cinnati  Christian  Standard. 

"  It  abounds  in  stirring  incident  of  most  exciting  times,  graphic  descriptions  of 
thrilling  scenes,  and  information  of  importance  to  statesmen  and  of  great  interest  to  the 
general  reader." — N.  Y.  Observer. 

"A  better  idea  of  the  Turkish  character  may  be  gained  through  the  many  anecdotes 
and  descriptions  of  scenes  given  by  the  writer,  than  by  the  study  of  any  previous  history 
with  which  we  are  acquainted." — Baptist  Weekly. 

"  No  book  yet  published  covers  precisely  the  same  ground,  or  handles  the  subject  in 
precisely  the  same  way.  We  find  ourselves,  in  its  perusal,  lending  very  much  the  sort 
of  attention  to  it  that  we  should  to  the  narrative  of  a  friend  who  had  passed  through  ihe 
scenes  which  Mr.  Dwight's  letters  portray." — Syracuse  Herald. 

"This  book  is  the  most  vivid  and  faithful  sketch  of  Turkish  character  that  we  have 
ever  seen.  .  .  .  It  is  mainly  a  series  of  interesting  notes  and  sketches,  giving  those 
little  details  of  life  and  thought  from  day  to  day,  in  a  time  of  great  excitement,  which 
are  so  essential  in  order  to  gain  an  accurate  knowledge  of  any  people." — The  Nation. 

"  The  book  has  more  than  a  transient  value.  It  is  a  contribution  to  history.  The 
author  has  not  only  descriptive  talent,  but  a  gift  for  discerning  the  meaning  of  the  political 
and  military  manoeuvres,  which  encompassed  Constantinople.  While  sufficiently  inter 
esting  to  the  general  reader,  the  book  is  full  of  information  for  the  student  of  manners 
and  of  pol.tical  affairs."— A7.  Y.  Christian  Advocate. 

*'^It  is  to  us  admirable  in  every  sense.  It  is  judicious,  discriminating,  comprehen 
sive,  impartial,  free  from  animosity  in  its  thorough  and  candid  criticisms;  eminently 
clear,  vigorous,  and  animated  in .  expression  ;  tells  us  just  what  we  wish  to  know,  and 
wastes  no  time  in  doing  it The  book  is  one  to  which  the  reader  can  sur 
render  himself  and  simply  enjoy."— A7".  Y.  Christian  Intelligencer. 

"|  Turkish  Life  in  War  Time,'  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  history  of  the  Russian  war, 
but  it  is  a  more  valuable  work  than  any  so-called  history  we  have  seen.  It  is  a  record, 
the  almost  daily  record,  of  a  very  keen  observer,  who  set  down  the  events  that  he  saw, 
and  who,  from  acquaintance  with  the  Orient,  understood  the  bearing  of  those  events.  It 
has  all  the  interest  of  a  personal  narrative,  and  all  the  weight  that  we  accord  to  an  honest 
and  well-informed  observer.  It  is  to  such  records  of  eye-witnesses  as  these  that  future 
historians  must  resort." — Hartford  Courant. 


*#*  For  sale    ty  all   booksellers,   or  sent,  post-paid,    upon    receipt  of 
tirice,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


HAW^ORTH'S  * 

BY 

FRANCES    HODGSON    BURNETT, 

Author  of  "THAT   LASS   O'LOWRIE'S." 


One  Vol.  12mo,  Illustrated,      -      -     -      -      -      -      Price,  $1,50, 

The  publication  of  a  new  novel  from  Mrs.  Burnett's  pen  has  become  an 
event  of  more  than  ordinary  moment,  both  to  the  critics  and  the  public  ; 
and  HAWORTH'S  fulfills  the  best  anticipations  of  both.  It  is  in  the 
direct  line  of  development  of  the  author's  strongest  traits,  and  marks  a 
higher  point  than  was  reached  even  in  the  best  passages  of  her  first  story. 


CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

1 ' Ha-wortHs  is  a  product  of  genius  of  a  very  high  order — a  piece  of 
work  wliich  will  hold  a  permanent  place  in  literature;  one  of  those  mas 
terly  performances  that  rise  wholly  above  the  plane  of  light  literature  upon 
which  novels  are  generally  placed." — Evening  Post. 

"  It  is  but  faint  praise  to  speak  of  HaivortJfs  as  merely  a  good  novel. 
It  is  one  of  the  few  great  novels.  .  .  .  As  a  story,  it  is  alive  through 
out  with  a  thrilling  interest  which  does  not  flag  from  beginning  to  end, 
and,  besides  the  story,  there  is  in  it  a  wonderfully  clever  study  of  human 
nature." — Hartford  C our  ant. 

44  Haw ortfts  will  unquestionably  be  acknowledged  one  of  the  great 
literary  achievements  of  the  day.  The  chief  feature  is  its  intense  dramatic 
power.  It  consists  almost  wholly  of  vividly-presented  pictures,  which  so 
impress  themselves  on  the  mind  of  the  reader,  that  the  effect  is  more  that 
of  seeing  the  story  acted  than  of  reading  it." — Boston  Post. 

"Conversation  and  incident  move  naturally  and  with  perfect  freedom, 
jret  there  is  not  a  page  which  does  not  essentially  aid  in  the  development 
of  plot.  .  .  .  The  handsome  illustrations  are  in  tone  and  keeping 
with  the  spirit  of  the  book." — Buffalo  Courier. 

"  The  book  is  original,  powerful,  helpful,  dramatic,  vivid  and  great. 
Every  character  is  cut  with  the  distinctness  of  a  cameo,  and  every  one  is 
unique.  .  .  .  The  art  of  the  volume  is  perfect.  Every  word  is  needed 
to  effect  the  result.  The  pictures  fit  into  one  another.  The  whole  is  a 
faultless  mosaic." — Albany  Argus. 


%*  For  salt  by  t£ll  booksellers,  or  -will  be  sent,  frcfaid,  itfion  receipt  of f  rice,  ly 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


New  Edition  in  handsome  Binding.     Each   I  vol.   ismo.   uniform, 
txtra  cloth,  $1.25  per  vol. 


The  Erckmann-Chatrian  Novels. 

FRIEND  FRITZ  :  A  Tale  of  the  Banks  of  the  Lauter.  Including 
a  Story  of  College  Life — "  MAITRE  NABLOT." 

'• '  Friend  Fritz*  is  a  charmingly  sunny  and  refreshing  story" — N,  Y.  Tribune. 

THE  CONSCRIPT:    A  Tale  of  the  French  War  of  1813.     With 

four  full-page  illustrations. 

From  the  Cincinnati  Daily  Commercial. 

"  It  is  hardly  fiction — it  is  history  in  the  guise  of  fiction,  and  that  part  of  history 
which  historians  hardly  write,  concerning  the  disaster,  the  ruin,  the  sickness,  the 
poverty,  and  the  utter  misery  and  suffering  which  war  brings  upon  the  people.'' 

WATERLOO  :  A  Story  of  the  Hundred  Days.  Being  a  Sequel 
to  "The  Conscript."  With  four  full-page  illustrations. 

From  the  New  York  Daily  Herald. 

"  Written  in  that  charming  style  of  simplicity  -which  has  made  the  ERCKMANN- 
CHA.YRIAN  works  popular  in  every  language  in  which  they  have  been  published." 

THE   PLEBISCITE  :     The  Miller's  Story  of  the  War.     A  vivid 

Narrative  of  Events  in  connection  with  the   great  Franco -Prussian 
War  of  1872. 

THE  BLOCKADE  OF  PHALSBURG  :  An  Episode  of  the 
Fall  of  the  First  French  Empire.  With  four  full-page  Illustrations 
and  a  Portrait  of  the  Authors. 

From  the  PhiladelpJtia   Daily  Inquirer. 

"  Not  only  are  they  interesting  historically,  but  intrinsically  a  pleasant,  well-constructed 
plot,  serving  in  each  case  to  connect  the  great  events  which  they  so  graphically  treat, 
and  the  style  being  as  vigorous  and  charming  as  it  is  pure  and  refreshing.'' 

INVASION  OF  FRANCE  IN  1814.  With  the  Night  March  past 
Phalsburg.  With  a  Memoir  of  the  Authors.  With  four  full-page 
Illustrations. 

From   the  Ne-tv   York  Evening  Mail. 

"AU  their  novels  are  noted  for  the  same  admirable  qualities — simple  and  effective 
realism  of  plot,  incident  and  language,  and  a  disclosure  of  the  horrid  individual  aspects 
of  war.  They  are  absolutely  perfect  of  their  kind."' 

MADAME  THERESE ;  or,  the  Volunteers  of  '92.  With  four  full- 
page  Illustrations. 

Front  the  Boston  Commonwealth. 

"It  is  a  hoy's  story — that  is,  supposed  to  be  written  by  a  boy — and  has  all  the 
[rashness,  the  unconscious  simplicity  and  naivete  which  the  imagined  authorship  should 
,mply  :  while  nothing  more  graphic,  more  clearly  and  vividly  pictorial,  has  been  brought 
before  the  public  for  many  a  day." 

*$*  The  above  books  for  sale  by  ail  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent,  post  or  exprest 
tkarges  paid,  upon  receipt  of  the  price  by  the  publishers^ 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF 

MADAME   BONAPARTE. 

BY    E.     L.    DIDIER. 


i  Volume,  i2mo,  Cloth.     With  Portrait,         -        $1.50. 


The  remarkable  career  of  Madame  Bonaparte,  which  ended  at  Balti 
more,  in  April  of  this  year,  possessed  features  which  make  it  as  interesting 
as  a  romance.  Few  of  the  present  generation,  when  they  read  in  the 
daily  papers  the  notice  of  the  death,  at  the  great  age  of  ninety-four,  of  this 
brilliant,  fascinating,  and  once  dazzlingly  beautiful  woman,  realized  what 
a  long  and  varied  series  of  events  had  been  comprised  in  her  life.  The 
account  of  Elizabeth  Patterson's  marriage,  at  eighteen,  to  Jerome  Bona 
parte,  the  brother  of  Napoleon;  of  her  desertion  by  her  husband  at 
Napoleon's  order,  and  of  the  ambitious  woman's  long  and  determined 
struggle  for  her  rights,  make  up  a  sufficiently  eventful  story. 

But  the  wonderfully  full  and  varied  character  of  Madame  Bonaparte's 
life  is  only  fully  appreciated  when  it  is  remembered  that  all  this  had  hap 
pened  before  she  was  thirty ;  that  after  the  Restoration  she  was  still  to 
spend  years  of  brilliant  social  success,  in  different  parts  of  Europe,  among 
the  most  prominent  people  of  the  time. 

A  great  number  of  her  letters,  covering  portions  of  her  life  as  fully 
as  a  diary,  have  come  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Eugene  L.  Didier, 
who  has  been  for  several  years  a  special  student  of  everything  bearing 
upon  Madame  Bonaparte's  career,  and  has  had  every  advantage  for  making 
a  thorough  biographical  study.  In  her  correspondence  her  opinions  are 
expressed  with  a  peculiar  candor  ;  and  the  cynical  frankness  with  which 
she  avows  her  ambitions  and  motives,  the  pungency  of  her  comments  upon 
the  people  about  her,  and  the  accuracy  of  her  judgments,  as  they  are  found 
in  these  pages,  show  clearly  the  sharp  outlines  of  her  singular  character. 

The  publishers  have  had  the  privilege  of  consulting  Mr.  Charles 
Bonaparte,  of  Baltimore,  in  regard  to  the  publication  of  the  volume,  and, 
while  he  is  in  no  sense  responsible  for  any  portion  of  the  book,  they  are 
indebted  to  him  for  very  valuable  suggestions  and  criticisms. 

The  biography  will  be  illustrated  with  a  copy  of  Gilbert  Stuart's 
beautiful  portrait  of  Madame  Bonaparte  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  giving 
three  different  views  of  the  face  on  the  same  canvas. 


%*  The  above  book  for  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or   will  be  sent,  post  or  exprtit 
th^rges  pa.idy  upon  receipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers^ 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YOEX. 


••The  best   original  novel  that  has  appeared  in  this  country  for  man* 
years."— PHIL,  PKESS. 

THAT  LASS  0'  LOWRIE'S. 

BY  FRANCES    HODGSON   BURNETT. 


PRESS    NOTICES. 

"The  publication  of  a  story  like  'That  Lass  o'  Lowrie's'  is  a  red-letter  day  in  th« 
world  of  literature."— JV.  Y.  Herald. 

"  We  know  of  no  more  powerful  work  from  a  woman's  hand  in  the  English  language, 
act  even  excepting  the  best  of  George  Eliot's." — Boston  Transcript. 

"It  creates  a  sensation  among  book  readers." — Hartford  Times. 

"The  novel  is  one  of  the  very  best  of  recent  fictions,  and  the  novelist  is  hereafter  a 
person  of  rank  and  consideration  in  letters" — Hartford  Courant. 

"The  author  might  have  named  her  book  'Joan  Lowrie,  Lady,'  and  it  is  worthy  a 
place  in  the  family  library  beside  Miss  Muloch's,  'John  Halifax,  Gentleman/  and 
George  Eliot's  'Adam  Bede.'  " — Boston  Watchman. 

"The  story  is  one  of  mark,  and  let  none  of  our  readers,  who  enjoy  the  truest  artistic 
work,  overlook  it" — Congregationalist. 

"  Unlike  most  of  the  current  works  of  fiction,  this  novel  is  a  study.  It  cannot  be  sifted 
ftt  a  glance,  nor  fully  understood  at  a  single  reading,  so  fruitful  and  comprehensive  is  its 
word  and  character  painting." — Boston  Post. 


Price,  Paper  Covers,  go  cents;  or,  $1.50  Extra  Cloth. 


SURLY  TIM,  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

By  the  Author  of  "  That  Lass  o1  Lowrie's" 
One  volume,  small  ismo.     Cloth  extra,        ....       $1.25. 


The  volume  includes  eight  of  Mrs.  Burnett's  shorter  stories,  which  have 
appeared  in  the  magazines  during  the  last  few  years.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that  these  have  been  among  the  most  popular  tales  that  have  lately  been 
written.  Surly  Tim  (told  in  Lancashire  dialect),  which  gives  the  title 
to  the  book,  is  perhaps  better  known  than  any  short  story  yet  published 
in  SCRIBNER'S, 

CRITICAL     NOTICES. 

'  They  are  powerful  and  pathetic  stories,  and  will  touch  the  sympathies  of  all  readers." 
-~Tke  Commonwealth,  Boston. 

"  A  good  service  has  been  rendered  to  all  lovers  of  good  fiction  by  the  publication  cl 
these  stories  in  this  permanent  form." — The  Evening  Mail, 

*»*  Tltt  above  books  for  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sent,  fast  or  txfren 
upot\  receipt  of  the  price  by  the  publishers^ 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YOIK, 


